Abstract: We compared recent historical debates from the U.S., Great Britain, and Egypt using politeness theory to determine if there were significant cultural differences and/or similarities in the way candidates argued for high office. The transcripts from these debates were coded using a schema based on face threats used in debates. Results indicate some differences between the way U.S. presidential candidates, British leaders, and Egyptian leaders initiate and manage face threats on leadership and competence.

Keywords: Campaign debates, culture, politeness.

1. Introduction
This paper explores cultural differences and similarities in argumentation strategies used by candidates in debates for high office. Recent historical campaign debates in Britain and Egypt offer an opportunity to examine cultural differences in reasoning about public affairs. Debates for the office of British Prime Minister were held for the first time in 2010 between Gordon Brown, David Cameron, and Nick Clegg. Similarly, Egypt held the first debate between Abdel Moneim Aboul Fotouh and Amr Moussa. To date, limited amount of work has been done on these historic events (see Benoit & Benoit-Bryan, 2013) and less is known about cultural differences in arguing for office.

Our interest is in the ways candidates manage face concerns in the potentially threatening encounters of campaign debates. These events are held in front of audiences who watch and deliberate over candidates’ political skills. Previous work has examined politeness strategies used by U.S. candidates for the presidency from 1960-2008 (Dailey, Hinck, & Hinck, 2008) and found a trend of declining reasoned exchanges over policy difference while direct attacks on character increased. Comparing the language strategies of the candidates representing different political cultures of the United States, Great Britain, and Egypt will allow us to explore trends in international campaign debate discourse.

2. The debates in context
On April 6, 2010 British Prime Minister Gordon Brown announced that dissolution of parliament and general election would take place in one month, May 6, 2010. At that time, power was relatively evenly divided between Gordon Brown’s Labour party and David Cameron’s Conservatives (Shirbon, 6 April 2010). The Liberal Democrats had a new leader in Nick Clegg. The campaign was significant in the sense that it was one of the few times that the politics of the time might result in a hung parliament, where three leading candidates running for office had not been the situation since 1979 (when Margaret Thatcher led the Conservatives, James Callaghan represented Labour, and David Steel was the candidate advanced by the Liberal party), where all three parties featured new leaders, and where debates were featured for the first time.

Three debates were held about one week apart in the one-month campaign. The first debate concerned domestic policy, the second international policy, and the third economic policy. Although a variety of issues were addressed under each of those subject areas, two main issues were of concern at the time (Shirbon, 6 April 2010). First, Britain was facing an economic crisis much like the U.S. was in the wake of the 2008 recession. Looming before the British government was a huge budget deficit and markets wanted a clear sense of direction regarding how the government would go about responding to the problem. Second, the outgoing parliament had been tarnished with an expenses scandal where one hundred and forty-five members of parliament were accused of inappropriate expenses while serving in office.

The format of the debate featured opening statements lasting one minute for each leader. After the three opening statements, the moderator would then take the first question on the agreed theme. Each leader was given one minute to respond to the question and then each leader had one minute to respond to the answers. The moderator was then allowed to open up the discussion for free debate for up to four minutes. Each leader was then given ninety seconds for a closing statement (BBC, 2010). According to the Select Committee on Communications’ Report (13 May 2014), the debates were a success: “the average viewing figures for each of the debates was 9.4 million (ITV), 4 million (Sky), and 8.1 million (BBC)” p. 12.

2.1 The 2012 Egyptian debate
The Moussa-Fotouh debate was the first and only political debate to have occurred in Egypt, at least at this point in time; thus, it was an important experiment in democratic practices for the Egyptian people in the immediate post-Mubarak political climate. The presidential debate between Amr Moussa and Abdel Moneim Abul Fotouh took place in Egypt May 10, 2012 and was sponsored by several media organizations. Moussa was the former foreign minister and former head of the Arab League, has also served as Ambassador of Egypt to the United Nations in New York, as Ambassador to India and to Switzerland. Abul Fotouh, is a medical doctor who was politically active since his college days. He was also a former member of the Muslim Brotherhood, an Islamic opposition party founded in 1928. The candidates had a very different relationship with the former regime under Hosni Mubarak. Moussa’s political career took place under Mubarak and Abul Fotouh was imprisoned for five years from 1996 to 2001. Despite the fact that these two candidates did not make the final election ballot, the selection of the candidates for that debate reflected the two leading candidates according to polls at that point in the campaign.

The Moussa-Fotouh debate structure was based on American presidential debates. Amr Khafaga, editor in chief of Al Shurouk newspaper, one of the sponsors of the debate said that, “there is no precedent for such an event in Egypt so they’ve borrowed the debate rules from the U.S. Egyptianizing it a bit” (The Guardian, 2012). The Christian Science Monitor reported that, “in the hour-long run-up, hosts explained that the format was based on US presidential debates, and broadcast part of the 1960 Nixon-Kennedy debate.” Mona el-Shazly, a talk show host and Yusri Fouda, a former Al-Jazeera journalist moderated the debate. The debate was divided into two parts consisting of 12 questions. The first half of the debate focused on the constitution and presidential powers and the second half focused on the candidates’ platforms, the judiciary and security. Each candidate was given two minutes to answer each question and was allowed to comment on the other’s responses. In addition, the candidates were permitted to ask each other one question at the end of each half of the debate. Each candidate had two minutes for closing remarks. We were unable to locate exact numbers for viewership but one estimate described viewership as reflecting a high rate of interest (Hope, 2012).

2.2 The 2012 U.S. presidential debates
President Barack Obama debated former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney three times during the 2012 presidential campaign. The record of the Obama administration’s first term included steering the country out of the greatest financial crisis since the Great Depression, sweeping new regulations of Wall Street, health care reform, ending American involvement in Iraq, beginning to draw down American forces in Afghanistan, and more (Glastris, 2012). Still, 52% of Americans polled during the 2012 campaign believed that the president had accomplished “not very much” or “little or nothing.” The economy was weak during the campaign and despite some promising news of job growth many Americans were open to the possibility of new leadership.

Mitt Romney had a successful record as a businessman and Governor. At Bain Capital he led the investment company to highly profitable ventures and then served as the CEO of the Salt Lake Organizing Committee for the 2002 Winter Olympics. In 2002 he was elected Governor of Massachusetts and passed health care reform at the state level. He campaigned vigorously for the Republican presidential nomination in 2008 but lost to John McCain. That campaign experience prepared him well for the 2012 campaign and in a long series of primary debates won the presidential nomination. During the primary campaign his communication strategy was to appeal to the base of the Republican party. In a leaked video of a private campaign speech Romney claimed that 47% of Americans pay no income taxes.

The fact that Bain Capital had made money by taking companies over to sell their assets with the result in some instances of eliminating jobs, that Romney had been opposed to bailing out the U.S. automobile industry while Obama had offered loans to save it, that Romney was opposed to health care reform on a national level when he had been in favor of it at the state level, and the 47% comment hurt Romney going into the last seven weeks of the campaign. According to Richard Wolffe (2013) “what had been a 4-to-5 point race in the battlegrounds became a 6-to-7 point race” (p. 204).

The debates provided Romney with an opportunity to change the dynamic of the campaign. Beth Myers (Myers & Dunn, 2013) who served as Romney’s Campaign Manager indicated there were three goals for the first debate: “create a credible vision for job creation and economic growth,” “present the case against Obama as a choice,” and “speak to women” (p. 101). Given the lead that Obama had developed in the battleground states, Obama’s advisers believed that he did not “need to be aggressive anymore because it’s kind of baked in there” (Wolffe, 2013, p. 210). However, Obama became “caught between what he wanted to say on stage and what his agreed strategy was. He couldn’t attack in case it destroyed his own popularity. But he needed to attack to show he had some backbone” (Wolffe, 2013, p. 213). The conflict resulted in a poor performance that energized the Romney camp. Viewership for the first debate was over 67 million (Voth, 2014), 65.6 million for the second debate (Stelter, 17 October 2012) and 59.2 million for the third debate (Stelter, 23 October 2012).

We compared the debates using Brown and Levinson’s politeness theory. This approach to the study of political debates has been described elsewhere (Dailey, Hinck, & Hinck, 2008; Hinck & Hinck, 2002). For the purposes of this study we examined the degree of direct threats on candidates’ positive face across the debates in order to answer the following research question.

RQ: Are there differences between face threat strategies in U.S., Great Britain, and Egyptian debates?

3. Method

3.1 Selection of debates and the acquisition of primary texts
Seven debates were coded and analyzed for this study. The texts of the three 2012 United States Presidential Debates featuring Governor Mitt Romney and President Barack Obama were found on the website of the Commission on Presidential Debates. The text of the three 2010 British Prime Minister Debates involving, Nick Clegg, David Cameron, and Gordon Brown were found on the BBC website (news.bbc.co.uk.). Finally, the text of the May 10, 2010 Egyptian Debate between Moussa and Abul Fotouh was created from a You Tube video of the event (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrbkI1fkZFM&feature=player_embedded). An Egyptian native translated the debate transcript used for analysis from Arabic into English.

Unitizing the debates:

3.2 Unitizing and coding the debates
Two individuals served as coders of the transcripts. The coding process involved three decisions. First, the coders divided the transcripts into thought units. Hatfield and Weider-Hatfield (1978, p. 46) define a thought unit as “the minimum meaningful utterance having a beginning and end, typically operationalized as a simple sentence.” Since viewers of televised debates are interested in how candidates construct their messages unitizing the transcripts into statements of complete thoughts seemed most appropriate for this study.

Second, the thought units were coded according to Dailey, Hinck, and Hinck’s (2008) coding schema. The coding schema is an extension of Kline’s (1984) social face coding system. Kline’s coding schema notes that positive politeness and autonomy granting/negative politeness are two separate dimensions of face support. Positive politeness is defined as the desire to be included and the want that one’s abilities will be respected. Negative politeness is defined as the want to be unimpeded by others. Positive face is supported by expressions of understanding solidarity, and/or positive evaluation; it is threatened by expressions of contradiction, noncooperation, disagreement, or disapproval. Since political debates are primarily concerned with a candidate’s ability to demonstrate his/her ability to lead, and to offer and explain policies and plans important to the well-being of the country, our analysis and coding schema focused on the positive face of the candidates. The coding schema is composed of three major levels. Statements at the first major level of the system are those that threaten the positive face of the candidates. Statements at this level of the system are further differentiated concerning the directness of the positive face attack (levels 1 and 2). Statements at the next major level of the system balance both threatening and supportive evaluative implications for the other’s face (level 3). Finally, statements at the final major level explicitly support the positive face of the candidates. Statements at this level of the coding system are further differentiated in terms of the directness of the positive support exhibited by the candidates (levels 4 and 5).

The third decision made by the coders focused on the topic of the action identified in the coded thought unit. Topics such as leadership/character, policy/plan, consequences of the plan, use of data, differences and/or disagreement between the candidates, campaign tactics, ridicule were identified.

3.3 Reliability
To determine intercoder reliability the two coders both coded the first quarter of the first 2012 Presidential debate, the first quarter of the first Prime Minister Debate, and the first quarter of the Egyptian debate. There was 92% agreement on the thought unit designation, and Cohen’s Kappa of inter rater agreement of .86 on the coding schema for the different content elements of the debate.

4. Results
The sample for this particular study included seven debates (three U.S. Presidential debates in 2012, three Prime Minister debates in 2010, one Egyptian Presidential debate in 2012). Tables 1 through 4 contain the results of the coding of face threat in these debates according to the system we have developed and adapted over the last 12 years as was laid out in the Methods section.

Table 1 has the raw percentage of thought units that were coded into one of the many categories of the coding scheme. For the U.S. and U.K. debates, these would be totals summed across the three debates. Also, included in all the tables are the averages for the coding categories for the debates from the 10 U.S. Presidential Campaigns we have coded before the 2012 debates.

Table 2 looks at combined categories of face threat according to directness of that threat. Over the program of research, we have found interesting information when we sum across the direct face threat and indirect face threat categories. This table also reveals a new way to look at the summed types by providing a ratio of the direct to indirect face threat. As a rough basis of comparison, in the 1960 U.S. Debates, this ratio was about 1.5, and in 2004 it was about 8.6. Generally, the preference for direct face attack has increased markedly across time, though the trend has been far from consistent. On the other hand, the decline in the use of indirect face threat has been fairly consistent starting at about 15% in 1960 and now hovering around 5% for the last three American campaigns.

Table 3 presents what we consider a disturbing trend in modern debates. Among the categories of face threat, we regard the roughest as the personal attack on the opponent’s character and leadership competence. In essence, “nasty” debates would tend to have more of this personal attack on character and competence and less of a focus on plans, policies, and ideas. In 1960, around 3% of the face threat thought units were made up of this personal and direct attack on character and leadership competence. Even the proportion of direct face threat thought units spent on attacking the opponent’s character and leadership competence was only 4%. The highest proportions occurred in the 2012 debates, and those numbers are listed in Table 3. This is to say that more than a third of direct face threats in the debate were attacks on the opponent’s character and leadership competence.

Table 4 takes a look at the categories of face threat if we combine the direct and indirect face threat forms of those categories. Again, to place the values in some context across the U.S. Presidential debates, 2012 had the second highest percentage use of attacks of character and leadership competence and second lowest percentage of attacks on ideas, plans and policies.

The purpose of this particular study was mainly to uncover differences and similarities across the three cultures’ debates. We think it is useful to draw attention to five different outcomes we see from these recent debates. These are the use of direct face threat, the use of indirect threat, the use of attacks on character and leadership competence, use of attacks on plans, policies and proposals, and the use of attacks on the manipulation of data.

4.1 Direct face threat
A direct face threat is an attack on something about the opponent personally. For example, were Romney criticizing the Affordable Care Act, that would be an indirect face threat, but if he were criticizing “Obamacare,” then it would be a direct face threat as the plan is now personally linked to Barak Obama. What we see across the three sets of debates in this study is a remarkable consistency in the use of direct face threat, and percentages that mirror the U.S. average (see Table 2). This leads us to say that there appears to be a “natural” sort of direct face threat for these sorts of debates. The way that the different sets of debates arrived at this median value were very different and will be discussed below, but from a macro view, debates that vary, approximately 10% over this 25% value may be excessively rough, while debates that fall 10% below seem “quiet” and lack vigor.

4.2 Indirect face threat
In contrast to the overall level of direct face threat, the overall level of indirect face threat does vary across the three debate samples we use here. The U.S. debates show the very low level of indirect face threat that reflects a generally consistent decline across the American debates; both the British and the Egyptian debates show a high use of indirect face threat. Indeed, the British and Egyptian debate values for indirect face threat are just what would have been common in the early American debates, those that are held up as models for useful and healthy political discourse. Even in the ratio of direct to indirect face threat, the low values for the British and the Egyptians are on par with the low values from the early American debates. We view the American experience here as an indicator of the decline in the quality of debates, while the British and the Egyptians seem to have taken a better tact,.

4.3 Attacks on character and leadership competence
A disturbing trend in American political discourse is the vilification and demonization of opponents and enemies. This would include direct attacks centered on tearing down the nature, personality, abilities, and leadership of opponents. In American debates, up to 2000, the average percentage of direct attack on character and leadership competence was about 3.5%. After, 2000, the average percentage was 9.5%. Looking across the debates for this study, we see that higher level of direct attack on character and leadership competence in the British and Egyptian debates. When we look at the proportion of face threat expended in this type of personal attack, it is also quite high among each of our samples (see Table 3). Indeed, as noted above, the proportion of direct face threat focusing on direct attack on character and leadership competence in the 2012 American debates was the highest for any American debate, and the British exceeded even that number. Just as we are not encouraged by this trend in the American debates, we find it equally disturbing that the British and Egyptian debates also relied heavily on this rough form of campaign dialogue.

4.4 Attacks on ideas, positions, and plans
The proportion of thought units used to criticize the other’s plans and policies has remained fairly consistent over time for the American debates, more so in the case of direct attacks on the opponent’s plans and policies. In the results for this study (see Table 4), the Americans and the British debaters used about the same amount of direct attacks in this category as is the American average. The Egyptians, however, showed virtually no criticism or attack on the other’s plans and policies. Looking at the indirect attacks, such as criticism of a plan without also threatening the face of the opponent personally, the Americans show a small proportion of thought units, Egyptians show no thought units in the category, and the British show a very high level. Indeed, the American proportion is the lowest among the 11 American campaigns we have studied, while the British proportion is equal to the highest level among the American debates. In essence, the British candidates were behaving as the Americans did in the early days of televised debates. We think this form of attack in the debates, especially attacks and criticisms that don’t focus on a person as much as a plan, is one of the best practices for debates. Unfortunately, the Americans do not tend to use this form of debate behavior any more, and it appears in the case of this one Egyptian debate, there is also a lack of focus on plans and policies.

4.5 Attacks on use of data
Finally, one thing we found very striking about the comparisons here was the high percentage of thought units used to attack the opponent’s use of data in the Egyptian debate (see Tables 1 and 3). Basically this category includes those claims that the opponent (of the opponent’s administration or party) is using data in a biased and possible incorrect way. One may claim the other side isn’t revealing the whole picture of information that is available, that the other side was wrong in what it proposed was the other’s record on activities and statements, that the other side is not interpreting data as it should be, etc. We are used to seeing a prevalence of this type of argument or attack when the parties are claiming the other’s proposals and plans won’t work and are misguided. The attacked party might rebut saying the opponent’s criticism lacks merit due to a biased or incorrect interpretation of the data.

This was clearly not the case in the Egyptian debates. Even though the amount of attacks on data use far exceeded any American debate, the amount of attack on the opponent’s plans and policies was virtually nil. Upon examining the transcripts, we found the claims about inappropriate use of data were to rebut the opponent’s claims about one’s character and leadership. For example, if one party claimed (or implied as it turns out) that his opponent failed to resign from the Mubarak government after a certain incident, the other would claim that the accuser did not have the record of events correct or failed in his interpretation of the what actions the other did take. Indeed, the major portion of face threat in the Egyptian debate was about 1) the opponents’ character and leadership competence and then 2) the inappropriate way the would-be slanderer was using incorrect data in order to make the claim about deficient character or leadership.

5. Discussion
In looking at the aggregate results of direct and indirect face threats, the results indicating some similarities across the three campaigns. It was interesting to find that the amount of direct face threat across the sample mirrored the U.S. average of direct threat. This might be some indication of a cultural similarity. The fact that debates call for criticism of opposing candidates’ programs and records, and that the amount of direct face threat was similar in this sample suggests that more work might be done to assess standards of direct threat in other nations’ leader debates. However, these findings are limited to just the most recent campaigns and only one Egyptian debate. A larger, more comprehensive sample of debates from other countries might yield a different finding on the question of overall use of direct threats.

When we turn to a consideration of indirect face threat some interesting differences appear. The fact that U.S. indirect threats were low suggests a concern with U.S. presidential candidates reliance on direct attacks. We wonder whether the decreasing use of indirect attacks reflects a misguided assumption on the part of candidates and advisers that respect for the opponent’s face should be abandoned in the hope of generating an impression of a strong candidate. However, the fact the U.K. debates and the Egyptian debate showed higher levels of indirect face threat reveals a potential cultural difference between the state of U.S. debates and those of these other two countries.

Looking at specific content dimensions of the coding schema, the results concerning attacks on character and competence revealed a similarity between the three campaigns in terms of higher levels of direct face threats in the U.K. and Egyptians debates. However, it is interesting to note that with the U.K. this was a well established democracy while Egypt was attempting to model western democratic practices in their historic first experiment with a political debate. The uniqueness of the events might have accounted for the intense nature of attacks on character and competence. The debates in the U.K. took place in the context of three person race, a situation that had rarely occurred in the past. Egypt had never held debates before and the candidates had limited experience to draw on in preparing for the debates. Thus the high degree of direct attack on character and competence might have meant that the candidates and their advisers saw little value in balancing concerns for the face of the opponent with the need to advocate for office. This, however, does not explain the intensity of the U.S. debates. In the 2012 campaign, the direct attacks on character and competence were the highest for American debates since 1960. Also, however, the British debates exceeded even that number. We can only speculate that as the British campaign tightened up in the last few days, the candidates increased the intensity of their attacks in the hope of drawing distinctions between themselves in ways that might win over voters.

The last two findings raise some interesting topics regarding Egypt’s attempt to break free of authoritarian rule and move to a more democratic system of government. In terms of attacks on ideas, positions, and plans, American and British debates featured about the same amount of direct attacks, However, the Egyptian debate showed almost no instances where the candidates argued about ideas, positions, and plans. This finding by itself, suggests that the Egyptian candidates were less prepared to advance and test ideas, positions, and plans, and more predisposed to attack character and competence and to attack each other on the use of data. In fact, there was a high percentage of thought units devoted to attacking each person’s use of data in the Egyptian debate. When we looked more closely at the messages dealing with the use of data in the Egyptian debate, we realized that what we coded as arguments over the use of data could also be interpreted by an Egyptian as an attack on character or competence. For example, to say to your opponent that, “you must be using wrong information to come to such a conclusion as you have,” is considered to be an attack on a person’s capacity to see an issue in the same way that others do, that the opponent lacks the ability to make sense out of the social reality in the same way as most others do. Within this kind of a statement is an implied presumption for the candidate who utters such a comment and calls into question the opposing candidate’s ability to use information in the same way that others do. Thus, it might be the case that to be sensitive to the different ways in which individuals from other cultures engage in argument over political issues in debates, some revision might be necessary to account for the differences in the way that communities engage in political argument.

Last, we think that it is interesting that the Egyptian debate featured so few exchanges over ideas, positions, and plans. We think it might be the case that when a nation attempts to move away from authoritarian forms of rule, democratic traditions and practices need to be cultivated over longer periods and institutionalized as political traditions before they can achieve the promise of informing the electorate. Even after attempting to model the debate on the classic 1960 Kennedy-Nixon debates, the candidates did not engage in substantive exchanges over differences in ideas, positions, and plans. In conclusion, the results of the study indicate interesting differences between these debates and warrant further exploration of cultural differences in political debates.

6. Conclusion
To summarize our findings as we look across the intercultural sample of campaign debates, we found both similarities and differences. The similarities include the amount of direct face threat used, a level that has actually been fairly consistent across the American debates as well as the use of direct face threat used to attack the character and leadership competence of the opponent. The differences include the relatively low level of indirect face threat used by the Americans, the extremely low use of any criticism of plans and policies in the Egyptian debate as well as extremely high use of criticism of the manner in which an opponent has used or manipulated data.

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Abstract: There is no clear consensus about a difference between explanation and argument. After having explained why traditional points of view of informal logic raise a problem, I’ll argue for a linguistic point of view on this question and show how rhetorical strategic moves can exploit the blurry frontier between explanation and argumentation. A third category seems necessary to introduce – “apparent explanation” – and two French connectives – “car” and “parce que” – will be used to describe differences.
Keywords: Explanation, argument, informal logic, linguistics, connectives, car, parce que.

1. Introduction
The aim of this paper is to highlight some linguistic insights on the difference between explanation and argument in order to make apparent some rhetorical strategic moves that exploit the blurry frontier between both them. In order to achieve that objective, French connectives “car” and “parce que” will be used at the end of the paper – but the main ideas should remain clear for non-French speakers.

I would like here to offer a slightly new point of view on a very old and common problem: how to distinguish between explanation and argumentation? I will offer here a linguist’s point of view on this problem, which is often tackled by philosophers and critical thinkers. After having explained the linguistic clues I use to distinguish explanation and argument, I will discuss rhetorical strategies that exploit the appearance of an explanation to fulfil argumentative purposes. During this examination, I will need to speak about the French connectives “car” and “parce que”, but non-French speakers will be able to understand what I would like to underline.
Broadly speaking, two points of view on a difference between explanation and argumentation can be found in the literature. The first one comes from a philosophical side – mainly informal logic and critical thinking – and a second one comes from a linguistic side, which is perhaps less known outside French tradition on argumentation. There are problems within each of these sides: the old issue of differences between explanation and argumentation is still not resolved. Recently, McKeon (2013) argued for example that explanations should be considered as arguments. On the other side, Trudy Govier (Govier, 2005) has written that explanation and arguments are different, but some explanations can nevertheless be seen as arguments within different contexts.

Now the French linguist Jean-Michel Adam considers that explanations and arguments have different patterns, called sequences. He argued in a seminal book that argumentative sequence (inspired from Toulmin’s model) differs from an explicative sequence by the explicit presence of a problem and a solution. Thus, example 1 must be seen as an explanation:
(1) Why should I stop smoking ? Because, as soon as I run, I have difficulties to breathe.

An explanation, according to Adam (Adam, 2011), ties together four “propositions” (not in a logical sense): P. exp. 0: Introduction; P. exp 1: Problem or Question (Why P ? How P?); P. exp 2: Solution or Answer (Because Q) and P. exp. 3: Conclusion – Evaluation. The presence of an explicit question and its immediate answer introduced by because seems to be the criteria to distinguish explanation and argumentation. But the example (2) would probably be seen as an argumentative move in Adam’s viewpoint.

(2) I should stop smoking, because as soon as I run, I have difficulties to breathe.

The problem of these two similar examples is that a conclusion can be an explanandum and that premises can function as an explanans, just because of the presence of a why-question. This sudden change of nature of the sequence seems unsatisfactory, since the semantic point of view within these clauses seems untouched.

On the philosophical side, problems arise because of several difficulties rightfully underlined by Govier (1987):
1. In this example, ‘thus’ is used is the pardigmatic logical role, preceding the conclusion in an argument. But in other cases, ‘thus’ functions just as naturally in an explanation.
2. According to the classic deductive-nomological account, explanation is one type of argument. Although this account is now widely criticized, it was dominant in the philosophy of science for several decades and still enjoys influence.
3. As many informal logic teachers have observed for their displeasure, it is very difficult to teach students the distinction between explanation and argument. They find it hard to grasp in theory and still more difficult to apply in practice.
4. Even when the distinction is grasped in theory, many passages, real or invented, can be interpreted as either explanation or argument. (Govier 1987, p. 159 – 160)

The first quotation illustrates that the same connectives can be used in argumentation and explanation; this is also the case in French. The second one points out that, historically, explanation was just an argument scheme; thus explanation was seen as a category inside argument. The third one illustrates a very common pedagogical problem: a lot of people, including students but not excluding teachers, do not understand the difference between explanation and argumentation. The last one, finally, emphasizes either an empirical problem of some unclassified examples or an insufficiency of theory that prevails to distinguishing explanation and argument. Why is this so difficult to grasp a difference between these two types of reasoning? Answering this question needs to understand first how they are both defined.

To sum up the general frame in which explanations and arguments are distinguished, a good starting point is the following one: “Arguments offer justifications; explanations offer understanding” (Govier, 2005, p. 21). In another way:
In order for a collection C of propositions to represent one’s evidential reasons for a proposition P, one must be more certain of the propositions in C than one is of P. (2) In order for a collection C of propositions to represent one’s explanatory reasons for a proposition P, one needn’t be more certain of the propositions in C than one if of P (McKeon, 2013, pp. 286–287)

This leads to consider that “(P) Carole is the best math student in the class, (Q) because she is the only student in the class who is going to a special program for gifted students” (Govier, 2005, p. 22) may be interpreted as an explanation if everyone knows (P) but as an argument if the addressee must be convinced that (Q) is true. Hence, the difference between argumentation and explanation depends on addressee’s knowledge.

But this view, which is presented as unstable as Govier’s example of Carole reveals (“Even when the distinction is grasped in theory, many passages, real or invented, can be interpreted as either explanation or argument” (1987: 159)) may also be unsatisfactory. I would like to highlight three obstacles of the philosophical approach in the next sections.

2. Philosophical obstacles
The first obstacle is that certainty is viewed as an evaluation by the addressee. McKeon argues against Govier’s premise that “one must be more certain of the propositions in C than one is of P” (McKeon 2013: 286), writing: “[Govier’s premise] is false. […] I am certain of A and B, but not of C. I come to see that A and B are evidential reasons for C and as a consequence I become equally certain of C […]” (McKeon 2013, p. 287).

This counter-argument exhibits the pronoun “I”, which is clearly the addressee’s epistemic evaluation of C, between uncertainty or certainty. Thus, certainty appears to be a cognitive reality and not a linguistic feature. It raises a problem of access to an evaluation of certainty for any analyst. This absence of a clear-cut criterion about addressee’s evaluation prevents any analyst to settle between explanation and argument in ambiguous cases.

As a linguist, my solution is not to evaluate cognitive certainty but to describe how it is linguistically encoded. Works on epistemic modality[i] epitomizes this view on certainty to the extent that “manually annotate and consequently automate identification of statements with an explicitly expressed certainty or doubt, or shades of epistemic qualifications in between” (Rubin, 2010, p. 535) can now be done. It means that a discourse analyst interested in evaluating whether a statement is an explanation or an argument should focus on certainty encoded by the speaker’s rather than addressee’s evaluation. In this frame, only absolute certainty (the highest of the five levels described by (Rubin, Liddy, & Kando, 2006; Rubin, 2010)) is a relevant category for explanation.

The second obstacle is also tied with cognitive contingencies. Context-dependency is quite an hurdle in this case. These two quotations illustrate the problem [italics are mine]:
Passages that appear to be arguments are sometimes not arguments but explanations. The appearance of words that are common indicators […] cannot settle the matter, because those words are used in both explanations and arguments. We need to know the intention of the author” (Copi & Cohen, 2008, p. 19).

In such a context, there would be no point in arguing for that claim, because there is no need to try to rationally persuade anyone that it is true; the people spoken to already believe it (Govier, 1987, p. 23).

My view, as a linguist and discourse analyst, is that we can only infer relevant intentions from what is said and make assumptions about the addressee’s mental states (beliefs, desires, intentions, etc.) from a contextual point of view. Works by Grice (1975) or Sperber & Wilson (1996) are typically used to calculate meaning from what has been said. On the other side, rhetoric is first defined by making adjustments with addressee’s beliefs and desires (Herman & Oswald, 2014). Knowing intentions and beliefs is quite an impossible task, but a discourse analyst should make assumptions or hypotheses about these mental states and estimate their probability within a given context of communication.

The third philosophical obstacle is linked with a strong vision of truth. “Explaining why C [I should stop smoking] is true is the very same thing as giving a reason to think C is true” (Wright, 2002, p. 37) is a typical quotation that illustrates how evaluating truth is unavoidable in these matter or in order to settle the question. Linguists, on the other side, aren’t generally interested in knowing the truth, but they are interested in showing how reality is represented.

(3) (P) Joe took the time machine, (A) because he needed digital pictures of Napoleon during the battle of Waterloo.

(3) will be seen as an explanation even if (P) is very likely to be false in 2014, because (P) is represented as real. Linguistic markers underline it: use of the simple past; act of an assertion; no doubt mentioned on an epistemic level. This utterance appears to be true and is intended to appear so for the addressee independently of our knowledge of the state of the world.

So, if we accept to get around those obstacles as I do with the linguist’s points of view I’ve just underlined, we can define explanation like this:

Explanation of a proposition (p) by a proposition or a set of propositions (q) implies that (p) is linguistically presented as indisputable, i.e. represented as true or as certain
This leads of course to another difficulty: what is linguistically indisputable? The key criterion I shall use here is linguistic modalities.

3. Using linguistic modalities
I’ll use the most thorough book on the subject in French, Laurent Gosselin’s book published in 2010 (Gosselin, 2010) in which he detailed six types of modalities: alethic, epistemic, appreciative, axiological, boulomaïc and deontic modalities. It is important to underline that we will not use logical modalities like necessity or contingency. Of course, the modalities that are tied with the question of explanation are essentially alethic modalities (truth represented) and epistemic modalities on certitude. Let’s see those two cases.

“Alethic modality characterizes fundamentally descriptive judgments [they are supposing preexisting facts and report them] that refer to an existing reality, independently of judgments passed on it”(Gosselin 2010 : 314), my translation). Statements expressing alethic modality are not considered as standpoints, but as facts which cannot be presented with “I guess that” or “I find that” – see example 4. This is quite a good test to identify modalities.

(4) Joan is a widower → ?? I guess that Joan is a widower / It is a fact that Joan is a widower

Conversely, epistemic modalities are linked with subjectivity. Gosselin talked about “subjective truth”. It is difficult to insert a circumlocution like “It’s a fact that” before an epistemic utterance – see example 5 – without a sort of power grab on this utterance. There’s no problem however to insert “I guess that”

(5) My computer is too old → ? It is a fact that my computer is too old / I guess that my computer is too old

Alethic modality is quite clear: it is the only modality that necessarily leads to an explanation. Those statements are linguistically represented as true. Hence, any causal conjunction following an alethic statement A is designed to offer an explanation of it (why A? or How A?).

Dealing with epistemic modality is a bitt more complex and confusing. Epistemic modality concerns “subjective truths”, beliefs on objects of this world, “descriptive judgments which do not constitute value judgments, but which do not also put back to an autonomous reality” (Gosselin, 2010, p. 325). With epistemic modality, what is represented is not a matter of truth but a matter of certainty and a matter of degrees of certainty.

In principle, epistemic modality expressed in (6) leads to argumentation, since the conclusion is a standpoint and following arguments give reasons to justify beliefs.

(6) My computer may be too old now.

But there is a major problem with epistemic modality when the epistemic value is absolute certainty (e.g.: “My computer is too old”). Here, the subjective part of the clause, which was inherent in the modal verb “may”, seems erased by the certitude of the modal verb “to be”. This is a strong rhetorical move when epistemic modalities appear to be transformed into alethic ones – see the move between (7) and (8).

(7) “It is estimated that there are 2 million weapons in Switzerland” → (8) “There are 2 million weapons in Switzerland” (and it’s a fact)

With this kind of move, an evaluation of reality appears to be encoded as something which is imposed as true. In this case, when reasons are provided, they appear as explanations. (8) is not expected to be contradicted or called into question. This strategy offers a crucial advantage for the speaker, which is pointed out by Aristotle in Topics:
Not every problem, nor every thesis, should be examined, but only one which might puzzle one of those who need argument […]. For people who are puzzled […] to know whether snow is white or not need perception. (Aristotle, 2014)

This move – transforming epistemic clauses into alethic utterances – uses what Danblon (2001) calls obviousness effect. A consequence of this effect is to let appear some premises or conclusions as not open to discussion or to justification or not expecting to be discussed – as some linguistic presuppositions do.

4. Pseudo-explanations
There are also moves in which the speaker can exploit the blurring lines between explanation and argument without transforming modalities. In order to analyze such moves, one must decide if the conclusion of an argument or an explanation is represented as admitted. In other words, the analyst must evaluate if the speaker commits the audience to believe the reality described in the conclusive clause. This evaluation, founded on linguistic clues, leads me to conclude that we need a third category between argument and explanation: a kind of pseudo-explanation where (p) is considered as admitted and takes advantage of the certainty expressed to appear as explicative but, as these statements remain non-alethic, they may be disputed like an argument. Here are some cases of apparent explanations or pseudo-explanations:

The first case exploits the “invisible” epistemicity of non-axiologic evaluative terms: “Philip is tall”, “Taxis are expensive”. This move counts clearly on a supposed common ground, or a doxa, between speaker and audience. If Philip is a classic European basketball player, probably no one will contest (P) “Philip is tall”; if he is a grown-up French man whose height is about 1m80 (5.91 feet), (P) will probably be more disputable. If, finally, his height is about 1m55 with the same contextual data, (P) will probably be considered as ironic. Because the speaker counts on a collective acceptance on his/her claim, “Philip is tall, because he ate a lot of soup” can be counted as an explanation. Still, the “conclusion” part of it remains intrinsically epistemic and cannot be considered as “pure” explanation.

The second case is an echo of the first one. Doxa and stereotypes taken for granted – e.g. “French people are eating cheese after the main course, because…” – offer also apparent explanations. In this example, the speaker gives no linguistic clue that “French eating cheese after the main course” is a disputable generalization. It is assessed as a monolithic truth. Hence, the audience is invited to consider it as true and non-disputable.

The third and last case I see – without aiming at completeness of these observations – can be called a gamble on certainty. The future tense, even if it is inherently unknown and disputable, may encode a virtual certainty. “John will arrive at noon: he told me that he caught the 11:00 am train” offers an example where future can be taken for granted and represented as certain.

These cases have one common trait: they count on audience’s acceptance. Now, in contrast, we may find alethic clauses that are in fact linked with argument and not explanation or pseudo-explanation. Inference to best explanation is, despite its name, an argumentative move. If (9) is alethic, (p), in example 10, becomes epistemic, because (q) is used to establish the truth represented in (p).

(9) John has left the party

(10) (p) John has left the party, (q) because no one has seen him for an hour

Yet, alethic form of (p) conceals the intrinsically uncertain conclusion. Note that “I am certain that John has left the party” is completely epistemic and appears paradoxically less certain than (2). In these cases, the process of establishing a conclusion implies in retrospect that (p) cannot be considered as true or certain. Hence, it cannot be an explanation. It is important to see that alethic nature of (p) disappears when it becomes clear that (p) is inferred and not stated.

Table 1: Explanation, apparent explanation and argumentation

Finally, axiological or evaluative modalities (“I love it”) are not represented as true nor admitted because of the speaker’s commitment in evaluative terms and deontic modalities (“we should do that”) are intrinsically tied with a possible disagreement. These cases are open to disputation, which is a key criterion to identify an argumentative process. Even when appreciative modalities are generalized, for instance “This is a great movie”, the subjective adjective “great” is intrinsically representing a subjective evaluative standpoint that isn’t cancelled in generalization. Let’s sum up our position, before seeing how connectives can interact with this table.
5. French connectives in interaction with explanation and argument
Because can be translated in French either by “parce que” or “car” (see Zufferey, 2012). The main difference is the following one: “Parce que” is generally and quite often connected to an explicative move:
“Affirmation that p has a cause q, in the phrase p parce que q always takes for granted truth of p. We start with p, considered as undisputed and then we present its origin q”. (Groupe Lambda-l, 1975, p. 59, my translation)

This quotation of the seminal article on differences between those French connectives highlights that q can be taken for granted, even if q is open to discussion. Hence, using “parce que” is a possible rhetorical strategy in order to make an argument appear as an explanation:
(11) According to Samy Chaar, who has met her some time ago, this nomination “is good news, because [parce que] we have avoided a war of succession” (Le Temps, October 10 2013, my translation).

Example (11) illustrates that the speaker seems to “forget” the evaluative modality contained in “good news” and offers this argumentative move as an explanation. The obviousness effect of “good news” included in an explicative move is an interesting power grab: the audience is supposed to accept the idea of “good news”. This strategic move can be illustrated in table 1 from case C to case A and B. Unlike “parce que”, “car” is exclusively argumentative:
Enunciation of q is represented as being intended for justification of the enunciation of p (groupe lambda-l 1975 : 259, my translation)

“Car” illustrates a double meta-discursive move: “I’ve said p and I justify p by saying q”. “Car” doesn’t directly give a cause of (p) but a reason that justifies saying (p). This presupposes that (p) can be disputed. Therefore, “car” is strictly an argumentative indicator. Hence, when “car” is used with apparent explanations, it reveals inherently greater expectations to be called into question than with “parce que” and gives up “explicative appearance” to exhibit an argumentative nature. This move from case B in table 1 to case C can be illustrated by (example 12)

(12) (p) The conference fee is expensive, (q) because (CAR) organizing committee must pay many students to do the job

The use of “car” instead of “parce que” reveals that (p) may already be a disputed issue in a community that leads the speaker to a justification. The speaker acknowledges that (p) is a matter of concern or may lead to an open debate. Thus, the pseudo-explanation is in fact embedded in a real or potential argumentative situation. Some examples are even stranger. In principle, if “car” is strictly argumentative, one shouldn’t find “car” with alethic modality. It’s not the case. Examples (13) and (14) show it:
(13) (p) Noël Mamère : “I’m leaving the Green Party, (q) because [car] the party is captive of its factions” (Le Monde, September 26, 2013, p. 10, my translation).

(14) (p) Nelson Mandela’s agony goes on (q) because [car] “his soul isn’t in peace”, according to traditional chiefs who estimate that Mandela’s ancestors are irritated by family quarrels (Tribune de Genève, June 30, 2013, my translation)

In those examples, (p) are undisputed statements of fact. So, what are the effects of this move from case A in table 1 to case C ?

From a contextual point of view, Noël Mamère’s and Nelson Mandela’s cases are clearly moving from a non-polemic linguistic explanation taking place in a polemic context. Even if truth of (p) isn’t called into question, the causes in (q) are expected to be disputed. “Car”, in these situations, reveals the speaker’s self-consciousness that his/her explanation will almost certainly create a dispute or arouse an opposition: disagreements about offered causes or about the link between (p) and (q) are now expected.

This… explanation may let us understand an empirical test lead by Sandrine Zufferey (2012). In this test, participants were asked to fill a blank within two clauses with either “parce que”, “car” or “puisque” (since). Example (15) has delivered rather unexpected results.

(15) John laughed _ Peter stumbled

Indeed, 72,5% of participants put “parce que” (72,5%) as a connective between these clauses whereas 27,5% participants prefer “car” (27,5%). It is perfectly standard and expected to see a massive preference for “parce que” because of the alethic nature of “John laughed”. But how to explain that more than a quarter of tested people prefer “car”? It is difficult to answer, because there wasn’t any situational context in this test. But in order to understand that “car” is still perceived as possible, one must probably admit that “car” shows a readiness for a discussion. To be more precise, “car” indicates that “Peter stumbled” may be disputed as the true or the only cause of John’s laughter.

6. Conclusion
We wanted to highlight in this paper that, in a linguistic perspective, two criteria must be used to make fruitful distinction between explanation and argument: one is a semantico-enunciative analysis of proposition (p) which may be done with linguistic modalities; the second one is pragmatic expectations to be eventually called into question a in a real or potential context. These two criteria lead to distinguish in fact three categories: explanations, apparent explanations and arguments. We defined apparent or pseudo-explanations as non-alethic clauses explained or justified by some reason if and only if these non-alethic clauses are expressed with an absolute certainty, i.e. taken for granted by the speaker.

Strategic moves to open or to close a possible disputation must be analysed within this frame. We may find at least two cases: non-certainty bound modalities (deontic or evaluative modalities for example) may be linguistically encoded as generalized (“This is a wonderful movie”). In this case, it seems that the evaluative nature of this clause will remain as argumentative. But in the second case (“John is rich”), erasing the epistemic nature of this clause (“I think that John is rich”) leads in fact to turn an argumentative move into an explanation. Finally, the dynamics of some connectives (at least in French) is a way to analyse rhetorical and strategic moves: adding a layer of explanation on intrinsic argument (some uses of parce que) or expressing in an explanation an expectation of plausible future argument (some rare cases of car).

Acknowledgements
Thanks to Steve Oswald for the precious help in Amsterdam, to Jérôme Jacquin for the motivating moral support and to Thierry Raeber for his enthusiasm and nice ideas of linguistic tests.

NOTE
i. “Epistemic modality, or certainty, concerns a linguistic expression of an estimation of the likelihood that a certain hypothetical state of affairs is, has been, or will be true (Nuyts, 2001). Subtle linguistic clues, or markers, contribute toward the user’s understanding of how much credibility can be attached to individual propositions and whether the information comes from the first-hand or second-hand sources” (Rubin, 2010, p. 535)

References
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Abstract: During an international conflict, even otherwise objective journalists frequently display a strong emotional commitment to their government’s stance in the crisis. This commitment may cloud rational judgment, turning journalism into propaganda. A journalist’s choice to abandon truth-seeking in favor of persuasion makes the journalist a party to the conflict and transforms a critical discussion, based on a cooperative approach, into a persuasion dialogue, based on an adversarial approach.
Keywords: emotion, fallacy, journalism, persuasion, propaganda, reason.

1. Introduction
During an international conflict, even otherwise objective journalists frequently display a strong emotional commitment to the stance of their own country in the crisis. This commitment may cloud rational judgment, turning journalism into propaganda. The paper is an attempt to show that if a journalist chooses to abandon truth-seeking in favor of persuasion as his primary communication objective he immediately becomes a party to the conflict he is supposed to be observing impartially. In the end, such a journalist can turn into a propagandist. Abandoning truth-seeking transforms a critical discussion, based on a cooperative approach, into a persuasion dialogue, based on an adversarial approach. The persuasion dialogue, in turn, can further escalate a quarrel.
To provide answers as to how this transformation occurs in global journalism, this paper examines interplay between propaganda and journalism by delineating persuasion and truth-seeking in American and Russian media coverage of the Ukrainian crisis. The paper seeks to examine American and Russian media coverage of the Ukrainian crisis and show the nature of propaganda as fallacious emotional appeals, defined as those that supplant rational appeals.

2. Discussion
Propaganda is an elusive topic to describe using verifiable criteria. The challenge is all the more fascinating given that we are currently experiencing an all-out propaganda war between Russia and the West in a completely new context. Unlike the Second World War, this is a local conflict, and unlike during the Cold War, people on both sides have full access to the other side’s media discourse if they so wish (the question is how many people wish to make that effort rather than stay within the comfort zone of their own country’s media narrative – a condition for propaganda to thrive). Richard Alan Nelson defines propaganda as follows:
Propaganda is neutrally defined as a systematic form of purposeful persuasion that attempts to influence the emotions, attitudes, opinions, and actions of specified target audiences for ideological, political or commercial purposes through the controlled transmission of one-sided messages (which may or may not be factual) via mass and direct media channels. (Nelson, 1996, pp. 232–233)

Another interpretation is that propagandists present their facts selectively (thus possibly lying by omission) and use loaded messages to produce an emotional rather than rational response to the information presented (Denish, 2012, p.1).

There are studies concerning principles and responsibilities of journalism as an antidote to propaganda, written by journalism practitioners and critics. In their prominent book, Director of the Project for Excellence in Journalism, Tom Rosenstiel and his co-author Bill Kovach (Rosenstiel & Kovach, 2001), present ethical guidelines to journalists based on the common conceptions about the press, such as neutrality, fairness, and balance. They argue that journalism’ first obligation is to the truth, its essence is a discipline of verification and that its practitioners must maintain an independence from those they cover.
The paper presents argumentation discourse analysis of the Ukraine-related media content of two American mainstream TV channels: CNN (as an example of a broadcaster with an international focus) and Fox News (a broadcaster targeting primarily a domestic audience) and their Russian counterparts: RT (formerly Russia Today), which broadcasts for an international audience, and the All-Russia State Television and Radio Broadcasting Company (referred to as the Russia Channel), which is mainly a domestic broadcaster. This is done because propaganda for the domestic consumption is quite different from international propaganda. The choice of channels is also determined by the similarity of the pairs in terms of political affiliation: the more liberal (CNN and RT) vs. the more conservative TV channels (Fox News and Russia Channel). This juxtaposition will increase the validity of the comparative study and raise the likelihood of interesting findings.

Appeals to emotions, such as fear, pity and compassion, are not necessarily wrong; they used legitimately and effectively in public awareness and charity campaigns. The problem is that while appeals to emotion have a legitimate, even important, place as arguments in persuasion dialogue, they need to be treated with caution because they can also be used fallaciously when they supplant rational arguments.
But how do we decide which emotional appeal is fallacious and which is not? The paper is based on the presumption that certain types of emotional appeals are very powerful as arguments in themselves, but they may have a much greater impact on an audience than is warranted in the case argued (Walton, 1992, p. 1).

There are three main emotional appeals that supplant reason:
Argumentum ad populum or mob appeal invite “people’s unthinking acceptance of ideas which are presented in a strong, theatrical manner and appeal to our lowest instincts” (Engel, 1976, pp. 113-114). The Russian takeover of the Crimea has been presented by the Russian mainstream media as liberation, reunification of the Russians living there with their homeland, akin to their return from captivity. According to this line, it was a legitimate restoration of historical truth: an act of saving Sebastopol, a city of Russian naval glory, for which so much Russian blood has been spilt, from becoming a NATO naval base. The images showed Crimeans dancing in the street with tears of joy in their eyes.

The story “Ukraine and EU sign free trade zone deal” published on the RT website (http://rt.com) on June 27, 2014, says:
Georgia and Moldova also signed both political and economic parts of the Association Agreement. Ukraine signed a political part of the agreement in March, shortly after Crimea rejoined Russia.

Note the clause Crimea rejoined Russia: the actor is Crimea not Russia who is the recipient of the action which is described by a verb with a clearly positive connotation conveying a sense of restoration of something that has been broken. The style of the story is markedly neutral; it is presented as a mere narrative of events that happened in and around Ukraine. Georgia, Moldova and Ukraine signed the Association Agreement while Crimea rejoined Russia. Everyone is happy; they have got what they wanted.

The Culture Channel which is part of the Russian State Television Holding Company hosted two cultural historians on the Power of the Fact show as far back as 2012. The summary of the episode, published on the Culture Channel website (http://tvkultura.ru/), describes the program as follows:
One of the most ancient inscriptions in Russian dating back to the 11th century talks about the Crimea: “Prince Gleb measured the sea on ice from Tmutarakan to Korchev to be 14,000 sazhen.” (Sazhen is a measure equaling approximately 2 meters. Korchev is the modern Crimean city of Kerch). Later the histories of Russia and Crimea have been so intertwined that the Crimean context has become part of Russian consciousness, and a significant part of Crimean cultural heritage has become part of the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union – Crimea as a unique mixture of civilizations from the Hellenic to the Soviet. What is the Crimean myth, does Crimea hold the same cultural appeal today as it did one hundred years ago, at the time of the Silver Age? Are there any people in Crimea continuing the Russian cultural tradition?

In this discussion, again, the sense of a lost and regained part of Russia was the core of the persuasive thrust.
Another RT story “Who undermines the Budapest Memorandum on Ukraine?”, contributed by Dr Alexander Yakovenko, Russian Ambassador to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Deputy foreign minister (2005-2011), published on May 29, 2014, contains a picture of a poster in Russian with the following caption: “Children walk past a billboard sign in Sevastopol on March 13, 2014, reading “On March 18 we will choose either … or…” and depicting Crimea in red with swastika and covered in barbed wire (L) and Crimea with the colours of the Russian flag (R) (AFP Photo/Victor Drachev)”. Note the hidden juxtaposition of innocent children (a girl and a boy for balance) signifying peace and security for the children and a need to protect them from a clear threat represented by a neo-Nazi Ukraine. This powerful visual is an example of appeal to fear in a theatrical manner. It is also an argumentum ad hominem described below in that it demonizes the opposing side (see Fig.1)

Argumentum as mesirecordiam is fallacious when one tries to persuade someone to accept a popular view by arousing his sympathy or compassion (Michalos, 1970, p. 51). American mainstream media used very strong vocabulary, such as “aggression”, ‘annexation” and “occupation”. They compared the Russian involvement in the Crimea and Ukrainian eastern provinces with Hitler’s annexation of the Sudetenland in March 1938 (under the pretext of the alleged privations suffered by the ethnic German population living in those regions). This was meant to mobilize American government and society for a rescue mission to protect Ukraine from a Russian bully. On the other hand, the Russian media discourse also centered on protecting the Ukraine’s Russian-speaking population from neo-Nazi groups from Western Ukraine. The culmination of this appeal was the coverage of the Odessa tragedy in which over 40 pro-Russian protesters were killed.

As the genre of news is supposed to be objective, we often find opinion in the concluding part of a news story meant to put the news in perspective. The nature of a background setting is that it calls for a concise summary of the events leading up to the situation described in the story. This compactness leaves very little room for a two-sided approach to the news. It is in that part that we see opinion clearly stated. The story titled “Ukraine signed a trade and political deal with the EU last week, the one that Yanukovych had rejected. Ukrainian, Russian leaders agree to work on ceasefire”, published on June 30, 2014, on the Fox News website (http://foxnews.com), states:
The conflict in eastern Ukraine began after a protest movement among those seeking closer ties with the EU prompted President Viktor Yanukovych to flee in February. Calling it an illegal coup, Russia seized and annexed Ukraine’s Crimea region in March, saying it was protecting Russian speakers. The insurrection in the east began shortly afterward.” The authors openly blame Russia for seizing and annexing one Ukrainian region and indirectly for igniting an insurrection in another, whereas President Yanukovich had to flee from protesters merely seeking closer ties with the EU.

The story “Ukraine cries ‘robbery’ as Russia annexes Crimea”, published on March 18, 2014 on the CNN website (http://cnn.com), is supplied with this opening summary “Cheers in Moscow. Outrage in Kiev. Bloodshed in Simferopol.” Description of the bloodshed is found in the middle part of the story:
Masked gunmen killed a member of Ukraine’s military, wounded another and arrested the remaining staff of Ukraine’s military topographic and navigation directorate at Simferopol, Defense Ministry spokesman Vladislav Seleznyov told CNN.

While the loss of even a single life is a tragedy, the use of the word bloodshed is a clear overuse of emotional appeal and is an example of argumentum ad misericordiam.

Argumentum ad hominem is an argument that uses a personal attack against an opposing arguer to support the conclusion that the opposing argument is wrong. Character assassination is evident in American media demonizing Putin, who is often described as a former KGB spy and a dictator with Soviet imperialistic ambitions. Character assassination, however, is such a powerful tactic in argumentation that it is difficult to resist using it, and it is then difficult to prevent the argument from denigrating into a personal quarrel.

The story “Putin calls for compromise in Ukraine,” published on the Fox News website on June 22, 2014, says:
Separatists in the eastern Donetsk and Lubansk regions have declared independence and asked to join Russia. Moscow has rebuffed their appeals, but is seen by Ukraine and the West as actively supporting the insurgency. Putin’s conciliatory words came as Russia began large-scale military exercises and after NATO accused Russia of moving troops back toward the Ukrainian border.

A circumstantial variant of an ad hominem attack on Putin is evident in the juxtaposition of Putin’s words and actions: his conciliatory words and his rebuffing of the separatists’ appeals come at the background of Russia’s large-scale military exercises.

3. Conclusion
To sum up, these emotional arguments all play upon the prejudices in an audience. To bring these prejudices to the fore, the speaker directs an argument at what he or she takes to be the deeply held emotional commitments of the audience. Such tactics exploit the bias of an audience toward its own interests – whether it is a financial interest, a social interest in belonging to a certain group (including a nation or a group of nations, such as membership of the European Union for the Ukraine), or an interest in avoiding harm or danger (e.g. a Ukrainian nationalist threat for eastern Ukrainians).
A well-known 17th-century political maxim said that interests never lie. People lie, nations lie, but interests never lie. The primary interest of a journalist turned propagandist is to resolve a difference of opinion by defeating his opponent, while an objective journalist’s goal is to find the common truth of the matter.

Plato’s Socrates advocated dialectic aimed at establishing the truth through reasoned arguments, based on a cooperative view of argument. Sophists taught rhetoric aimed at persuasion, based on an adversarial approach to dispute. Plato’s dialectician considered his opponent a partner in discussion while a Sophist saw an adversary in his interlocutor. While both bore their audience in mind when arguing their points, the latter viewed the audience as his main target of persuasion, since it was the audience that ultimately chose the winner.

References
Denish, N.A. (2012). The desired result of attitude toward the subject in the target audience of propaganda. In The Journal of Historical Research, (p.1) www.ssresearcher.com
Engel, M.S. (1976). With Good Reason: An Introduction to Informal Fallacies. New York: Bedford/St. Martin’s.
Kovach B., Rosenstiel T. (2001). Elements of Journalism: What News People Should Know and the Public Should Expect. New York: Random House LLC.
Michalos, A.C. (1970). Improving Your Reasoning. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall.
Nelson, R.A. (1996). A Chronology and Glossary of Propaganda in the United States. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press.
Walton D.N. (1992). The Place of Emotion in Argument. University Park, Pa.: Pennsylvania State University Press.

Abstract: Empirical tests of the dialogue types developed by informal logicians have been conducted recently. In this paper, we further advance this line of research by connecting dialogue types with several well-established measures in argumentation research: argument frames, argument beliefs, argument competence, argumentativeness, and verbal aggressiveness. Results indicate participants prefer the persuasive dialogue to the other types, and dialogues are well predicted by argument competence as well as the pro-social component of verbal aggressiveness.

Keywords: dialogue types, interpersonal arguments, Walton.

1. Introduction
The study of dialogues as normative frameworks has primarily been undertaken by informal logicians (e.g., Walton, 1998; Walton & Krabbe, 1995). Walton (1998) proposed a new approach to studying propositional commitments and turn-taking moves that occur during a dialogue. He argued that the concept of dialogue must be tailored so that it can accommodate (and explain) how individuals argue in their everyday exchanges. It should prescribe how arguments ought to occur and develop and it should provide criteria for assessing whether an argument has been used correctly (Walton, 1998).

Walton and Krabbe (1995) and Walton (1998) developed and detailed six main types of dialogues: persuasion, inquiry, information seeking, negotiation, deliberation and eristic. These dialogues differ depending on the initial situation that sparks argumentation and the main goal of engaging in a specific type. Persuasion stems from an open conflict that parties seek to resolve. Negotiation and the eristic dialogue also stem from an open conflict, but their goals are different; parties seek a practical settlement in a negotiation but only a provisional accommodation in an eristic dialogue. Inquiry and deliberation both stem from an open problem but differ in their main goal: inquiry seeks a stable resolution, whereas deliberation seeks a practical settlement. Finally, information seeking stems from an unsatisfactory spread of information and seeks to reach a stable resolution of the situation[i].

There is little research that examines these dialogues empirically. Cionea (2011) made a case that examining these dialogue types in interpersonal relationships can enhance our understanding of how, when, or why people employ each dialogue in their argumentative exchanges. Later, Cionea (2013) developed self-report measurement scales and tested four of the dialogues in the context of romantic relationships. In this paper, we propose developing measurement scales for the remaining two dialogue types and examining the associations (if any) that dialogue types may have with other argumentation variables. In addition, we propose that a seventh dialogue type may be feasibly added to the list developed by Walton (1998) and Walton and Krabbe (1995): information giving. Dialogues are a give and take process in which arguers seek information but also give information to the other party. Thus, we conceptualize this dialogue type as the reverse of information seeking; instead of trying to seek information from the other person, the arguer offers information to the other person. The goal of the dialogue and the initial situation that triggers it are the same as for information seeking.

In what follows we present the results of two studies examining dialogues as individual preferences that people tend to adopt in their arguments. We describe the goals of each study, the method we have employed, and our results. We conclude with a general discussion of what our research unveils about dialogue types and the potential future directions in which this line of research can be expanded.

2. Study 1
The goal of this study was to develop measures for the two dialogue types (inquiry and deliberation) not previously examined by Cionea (2013) and for the dialogue type that we propose should be added – information giving. To accomplish this goal, we created items for these three dialogues and assessed their reliability and factor structure.

2.1 Participants
Participants in the study were 189 individuals recruited from Amazon Mechanical Turk in the United States. One hundred and twenty one participants were male and 68 were female, with ages between 18 and 62 years old (M = 31.66, SD = 10.41). Participants were mostly White (n = 134), followed by Asian (n = 26), African American (n = 13), Hispanic and/or Latino/Latina (n = 11), and other ethnicities or combinations of the previous ones. Participants came from all regions of the United States, with the highest numbers from the Pacific (n = 42), Middle (n = 32) and South Atlantic (n = 34) regions. Most participants had a college degree (n = 59) or some college (n = 69).

2.2 Procedures
Participants completed an online questionnaire in which they provided consent and demographic information. They were then asked to think about what they do when they discuss, argue, or have any dialogue with another person and rate statements measuring dialogue types on a scale from 0 (absolute disagreement) to 100 (absolute agreement). Participants were compensated 50 US cents for their participation. The research was approved by the Institutional Review Board at a West South Central university in the United States.

2.3 Measures
Persuasion, negotiation, information seeking, and the eristic dialogue were measured with items developed by Cionea (2013). Persuasion dialogue was measured with six items (e.g., “I try to explain my position to the other person” or “I try to give the other person reasons for my position”), as was the negotiation dialogue (e.g., “I try to make a deal with the other person” or “I try to come up with an agreement that we can both live with”). Information seeking dialogue was measured with four items, such as “I try to find out more information from the other person” and “I try to ask the other person for the whole story.” The eristic dialogue was measured with six items, too (e.g., “I try to vent” or “I try to take the opposite position from the other person”).

Seven items for inquiry and seven items for deliberation were developed for this study. Examples include “I try to decide with the other person how we should proceed,” “I try to analyze with the other person the consequences of our plan(s),” and “I try to weigh the options with the other person” for deliberation and “I try to find the truth,” “I try to insist that we draw logical conclusions” and “I try to analyze how we move from facts to the conclusion(s)” for inquiry. Four items for information giving were rephrased from the items for information seeking (e.g., “I try to let the other person know more information” or “I try to offer the other person the whole story”).

2.4 Results
The reliability of each scale was examined based on Cronbach’s alpha. The factor structure for each scale was examined based on confirmatory factor analyses. We relied on LISREL 9.10 and the maximum likelihood estimation method to assess the model fit for each dialogue type. We also examined an overall measurement model of all seven dialogues together. Results are presented in Table 1 below. Based on the corroborated evidence from these analyses, we eliminated two items: one from the deliberation dialogue (“I try to deliberate with the other person to reach a decision”) and one from the inquiry dialogue (“I try to scrutinize all available evidence prior to drawing any conclusions”) which had lower reliability and in which their respective latent factors did not explain as much variance as they did in the other items.

The results of Study 1 indicate that the scales proposed for measuring people’s orientation towards the seven dialogue types are reliable and unidimensional. Therefore, we conducted a second study in which we examined these dialogue orientations in connection with other argumentative inclinations and behaviors widely used in previous argumentation literature.

3. Study 2
Our main goal in this paper was to examine the dialogue orientations in more depth and situate them in the argumentation literature. First, we were interested in whether people show preference for any of the dialogue types. Cionea (2013) found that individuals who argued about a relational transgression in their romantic relationships tended not to use two of the dialogues: deliberation and inquiry. Is that the case in other contexts? Additionally, the eristic dialogue may elicit different behavioral responses than persuasion or negotiation. Cionea, Hopârtean, Hoelscher, Ileş, and Straub (2013) found that people perceived persuasion could be accomplished by discussing things with the other person, not by quarrelling with others. However, individuals did not perceived debates and quarrels as significantly different in respect to their roles in people’s lives and in American society. They also engaged in both when addressing a variety of topics, such as socio-political issues or entertainment, and they indicated both forms could be appropriate when arguing with others. These results suggest that people may prefer one dialogue orientation to another depending on what function they perceive arguing serves in their lives. So, we investigate this possibility by asking,

RQ1: Do people prefer a dialogue type to others?

A second aspect we were interested in is the relationship between dialogue types. Cionea’s (2013) studies revealed that persuasion, negotiation, and information seeking tended to be associated with more positive goals, whereas the eristic dialogue was used to give voice to frustrations and dominance. Cionea, Hample, and Fink (2014) pointed out the high correlations between persuasion, negotiation, and the information seeking dialogue, questioning whether people are able to distinguish them in everyday arguments. Thus, we ask the following:

RQ2: What is the relationship between the seven dialogues?

Finally, our third and main area of interest was to examine the relationship between dialogue types and other variables studied in the argumentation literature. We decided to focus on four main areas we believe are pertinent to dialogues. The first one is argument competence. Initially operationalized by Trapp, Yingling, and Warner (1987), argument competence captures whether arguers have the appropriate knowledge and skills to engage others in interpersonal exchanges successfully. The concept has two dimensions: an effectiveness dimension and an (in)appropriateness dimension. Competence could be a good indicator of what dialogue type an arguer may choose. Competent and appropriate arguers are likely to rely on constructive dialogues, such as persuasion and negotiation, whereas incompetent arguers may rely more on eristic approaches in which they could enact inappropriate argumentative moves, such as ad hominem attacks or fallacious reasoning.

Table 1 – Study 1 Reliabilities and Confirmatory Factor Analyses Fit Indices Note: N = 305
a. Revised model without items 5 and 6 and with an error covariance permitted between items 1 and 2.
b. Revised model with errors covariances permitted between items 1 and 6 and 2 and 4.
c. Revised model with an error covariance permitted between items 1 and 2.
d. Revised model with an error covariance permitted between items 2 and 3.
e. Revised model with errors covariances permitted between items 2 and 4 and items 5 and 6.
f. Revised model without item 2.
g. Revised model without item 1 and with error covariances permitted between items 2 and 3 and items 5 and 6.
h. Measurement model with all dialogue types and previously implemented modifications for each scale included.

The second area we focused on is argument beliefs, initially operationalized by Rancer, Kosberg, and Baukus, (1992) and further refined by Johnson (2002). Beliefs about arguing represent cognitive representations of the attitudes and predispositions that people have in respect to arguing (Rancer, Baukus, & Infante, 1985). For example, if arguing is believed to be a means of solving conflict, individuals may engage in arguments with others when trying to address incompatible goals. We propose that beliefs about arguing offer useful information about people’s tendencies to select specific dialogue types when arguing with others; what one believes about arguing can predict what strategies one will adopt when arguing. For example, if arguing is believed to have dysfunctional outcomes, then individuals may be tempted to rely on an equally destructive dialogue approach, engaging in the eristic dialogue. We examine the list of beliefs that Johnson (2002) refined: pragmatic outcomes (i.e., arguing has pragmatic outcomes, such as resolving conflict), dysfunctional outcomes (i.e., arguing has dysfunctional outcomes, such as increasing tension), enjoyment (i.e., arguing is a fun experience), self-concept (i.e., arguing enhances one’s self concept, making a person feel positive), and ego-involvement (i.e., one argues because the topic is important to the person).

A third area we believed would be relevant to predicting what dialogue orientation people may take is argument frames (Hample, 2003). Frames are somewhat similar to beliefs; they reveal what people believe they are doing when they argue with others. Hample (2005) explained that frames are the initial expectations people have about arguing and, therefore, they affect the beginning stages of arguing (changes being possible as an argument progresses). We argue here that these beginning stages are captured by the dialogue type one is inclined to choose. In other words, frames capture expectations about arguing that are translated into a specific dialogue orientation to be enacted in the actual dialogue. We rely here on a revised version of the frames measure from Hample and Irions (2014) that identifies seven aspects:

– identity (i.e., arguing permits displaying one’s identity)
– play (i.e., arguing is a way to have fun with others)
– dominance (i.e., arguing is used to enact dominance or gain power)
– cooperation (i.e., arguing is a collaborative enterprise)
– utility (i.e., arguing serves a utilitarian purpose, allowing one to achieve what one wants)
– blurting (i.e., arguing permits people to say what is on their mind, without filters) and
– civility (i.e., arguing is a calm, civilized exchange).

Finally, a fourth area we propose can shed some light on people’s reliance on specific dialogue orientations consists of two trait variables that have been studied extensively in argumentation: argumentativeness (Infante & Rancer, 1982) and verbal aggressiveness (Infante & Wigley, 1986). Argumentativeness is the positive trait, indicating one’s ability to attack others’ ideas, whereas verbal aggressiveness is the negative trait, indicating one’s tendency to attack other people’s self-concept. Our reasoning here is that the tendency to approach arguments may lead people to engage in dialogues that enable them to cultivate this appreciation for arguments, such as persuasion, whereas the tendency to avoid arguments will be reflected by less arguing, perhaps even reliance on degenerated forms of arguing, such as quarrels. In terms of verbal aggressiveness, the pro-social dimension may connect to dialogues that enable this supportive communication style – negotiation or information giving – whereas the anti-social dimension may lead individuals to rely on the eristic dialogue. In light of all the considerations explained, we ask:

RQ3: Do competence, beliefs about arguing, argument frames, argumentativeness, and verbal aggressiveness predict each of the dialogues?

In what follows, we describe the method of our study and the answers to each of these three research questions.

3.1. Method

3.1.1 Participants.
Participants in the study were 286 undergraduate students at a large West South Central university in the United States. Participants ranged in age from 18 to 33 years old, M = 19.71, SD = 1.96. One hundred and three of them were male and 183 were female. Most participants were White (n = 223), followed by Hispanic or Latina/Latina (n = 19), African-American (n = 14), American-Indian or Alaska Native (n = 11), and some other ethnicities (n = 19). Most participants were freshmen (n = 101), followed by sophomores (n = 90), juniors (n = 52), and seniors (n = 40), while three individuals indicated another class standing. Students came from a variety of majors, including accounting, business, communication, energy management, health and exercise science, marketing, and public relations.

3.1.2 Procedures.
Participants were recruited from the departmental research pool, completed an online questionnaire, and received extra credit for their participation. The online questionnaire asked participants to provide consent for the research, provide demographic information, and then answer questions measuring dialogue orientations, argument competence, argument frames, beliefs about arguing, and argument traits. The research was approved by the Institutional Review Board of a West South Central university in the United States.

3.1.3 Measures.
The variables of interest were measured using a scale from 0 (absolute disagreement) to 100 (absolute agreement). Dialogue orientations were measured using the same scales as in Study 1. Argument competence was measured with 20 items (ten items measuring effectiveness and ten items measuring inappropriateness) from Trapp et al. (1987). Beliefs about arguing were measured with 24 items from Johnson (2002): four items measured pragmatic items, six items measured dysfunctional outcomes, six items measured enjoyment, four items measured self-concept, and four items measured ego-involvement[ii]. Argument frames were measured with 54 items from Hample and Irions (2014): eight items for identity, four items for play, six items for dominance, eight items for competition-cooperation, eight items for utility, ten items for blurt, and ten items for civility. Argumentativeness was measured with 20 items (ten items measuring the tendency to approach arguments and ten items measuring the tendency to avoid arguments) from Infante and Rancer (1982). Finally, verbal aggressiveness was measured with 20 items as well (ten items measuring the pro-social dimension and ten items measuring the anti-social dimension) from Infante and Wigley (1986). Reliabilities for all scales are presented below.

Table 2 – Study 2 Means, Standard Deviations, and Final Cronbach Reliability Estimates
Notes: N = 286.
Decision to omit items made after confirmatory factor analyses were conducted on each scale.

3.2 Results and Discussion
Our initial interest was to assess whether our respondents preferred one dialogue orientation to others (RQ1). We conducted a series of within-sample t-tests to compare adjacent means. Persuasion dialogue, with a mean of 82.39, was the clear preference, differing from the orientation with the next highest mean at p < .001. That dialogue type, information giving, was in turn significantly higher (p < .05) than interest in deliberation dialogues. The deliberation, inquiry, negotiation, and information seeking dialogues were not different from one another. The lowest mean of these (for information seeking) was significantly higher than that for the eristic dialogue (p < .001). So, our respondents clearly preferred to take a persuasion orientation; followed by information giving; followed by deliberation, inquiry, negotiation, and information-seeking; and the least preferred was eristic dialogue. This result provides some support for Walton and Krabbe’s (1995) claim that “the critical discussion (what we call persuasive dialogue) is the most fundamental context of dialogue needed as a normative structure” for analyzing arguments (p. 7). We also notice that this order roughly corresponds to the order one might supply if ranking the orientations on the basis of social desirability in Western cultures.

A second obvious matter of interest is the relationship among the dialogue types. To answer RQ2, we correlated the dialogue orientations. The eristic dialogue was essentially uncorrelated with the other orientations except for deliberation. This suggests that eristic and deliberative dialogues may not have been sharply distinct for our respondents, or perhaps that they saw the differences but assumed that deliberation leads to intemperate confrontation. Information seeking and information giving were substantially associated (r = .49), indicating that these were conceptually paired for respondents, as they ought to have been, given that one of them is simply a rephrased form of the other. Information seeking and information giving were both strongly associated with negotiation, deliberation, and inquiry. This is a reasonably perceptive understanding of the importance of evidence (information) to these constructive sorts of interactions. The relationship of the two informational orientations to persuasion was also positive but noticeably weaker than for the other constructive dialogues. A possible implication is that respondents felt that persuasion might also be undertaken by means of non-evidential resources (although we have no data on this point, such resources might include power, status, forcefulness, and so forth).

Table 3 – Study 2 Dialogue Types Correlations * p < .05, ** p < .01, *** p < .001

The final key issue concerns the relationships among dialogue orientations and the other variables that we believed might be explanatory. To answer RQ3, we conducted multiple regressions in which we predicted each dialogue orientation by the other variables in Table 2. Here we report only the statistically significant predictors in equation form, using standardized regression weights. All the multiple regression models were statistically significant at p < .001.

* Persuasion dialogue = .20 Competence effectiveness – .20 Argumentativeness avoid + .16 Verbal aggressiveness pro-social (adj. R2 = .10)
* Negotiation dialogue = .18 Competence effectiveness + .22 Verbal aggressiveness pro-social – .21 Play + .14 Cooperation (adj. R2 = .27)
* Information-seeking dialogue = .27 Competence effectiveness + .23 Verbal aggressiveness pro-social -.22 Dominance (adj. R2 = .22)
* Information-giving dialogue = .27 Competence effectiveness + .26 Cooperation -.14 Blurting (adj. R2 = .20)
* Eristic dialogue = .47 Competence inappropriateness + .15 Argumentativeness avoid + .22 Verbal aggressiveness anti-social -.18 Dominance + .19 Blurting (adj. R2 = .43)
* Inquiry dialogue = .37 Competence effectiveness + .17 Verbal aggressiveness pro-social (adj. R2 = .31)
* Deliberation dialogue = .26 Competence effectiveness + .31 Verbal aggressiveness pro-social + .13 Cooperation + .15 Utility (adj. R2 = .36)

The predictions varied in the degree to which the dialogue orientations were predicted, ranging from adjusted R2s of .10 to .43. Even 10% of the variance in a dialogue orientation was a substantial result, and some of the other adjusted R2s were very encouraging, considering that no correction for measurement unreliability was made.

Competence and the pro-social dimension of verbal aggressiveness significantly predicted several dialogue types (persuasion, negotiation, information seeking, inquiry, and deliberation). Some other variables added to the individual predictions for each dialogue. For example, the tendency to avoid arguments negatively affected one’s intent to engage in persuasion, which is a reasonable result given that persuasion would involve actually engaging with the other person. Negotiation presupposed cooperation, working with the other person as the frame of mind with which arguers approached it, again a reasonable expectation. So did deliberation, which suggests this dialogue is also perceived as a cooperative endeavour, and information giving, which implies a desire to work with the other person if one is to provide information. In addition, deliberation has a utilitarian frame associated with it, potentially due to its desired outcome of reaching a settlement. Interestingly, information giving was positively associated with blurting, suggesting some information sharing may be spontaneous, unfiltered, and unplanned. These results point to the importance that other-oriented variables (such as effectiveness, inappropriateness, or cooperation) have in the selection of dialogue types that involve the other person as well, such as negotiation or deliberation.

The eristic dialogue was strongly predicted by a self-report of inappropriateness in arguing, a preference to avoid arguing, an interest in being antisocial, and a willingness to blurt. It was contraindicated by an interest in asserting dominance. The avoidance impulse might be explained by a recent finding of Wright and Roloff (2014) that defensiveness and rumination about conflict were associated with both avoidance impulses and the desire to exact revenge on the other person.

4. Conclusions
This paper examined dialogue types in an effort to expand knowledge about the ways in which individuals use these argumentative strategies in their everyday exchanges. We tested self-report measures for each of the seven dialogues, and establish some needed connections with other argumentation variables. We conclude that dialogue types can be reliably measured based on the scales proposed by Cionea (2013) and the scales we have proposed here. More important though, we have found interesting associations with other variables that can help predict what dialogue orientation(s) people may prefer or rely on when they argue with others.

In general, individuals seem to prefer some dialogue types over others, with persuasion being the clearly preferred one. Several argumentation views and behaviors are important in predicting constructive dialogues. People’s self-report of their effectiveness in argumentation was a positive predictor for every dialogue type except the eristic one. The pro-social subscale of the verbal aggressiveness instrument also contributed positively to people’s attraction towards most of the constructive dialogue types. These two findings suggest that self-confidence and a set of appropriate argumentative intentions were fundamental to preference for the constructive dialogue types. The negative regression weights for argument avoidance, playfulness, dominance, and blurting reinforce this conclusion, as do the positive weights for cooperation and utility. The eristic orientation was predicted by a contrasting set of variables, one that is a conceptual fit to eristic interaction: it is inappropriate, antisocial, and undisciplined. Thus, our results identify suggest clear patterns exist in individuals’ argumentative behaviors, patterns that consist of related variables and inclinations.

Our study is not without limitations. First, our Study 2 population consisted of undergraduate students, which means results should be interpreted with this sample in mind. The relationships identified may or may not be replicable with other populations, but that is an area of research that future studies should pursue. Second, we asked participants to indicate what dialogue orientations they adopted in general when arguing. Participants’ responses may reflect general tendencies that people develop, but there may also be differences in the immediate orientations that people adopt in a specific circumstance, depending on a variety of factors, such as the topic of argument, the other person, and the environment in which arguers are. Such possibilities should be examined further. Finally, these dialogue orientations may constitute only the initial approaches that individuals have but that change as an argumentative exchange evolves. Future research should specifically focus on actual interactions between people and mapping out not only opening moves, but also shifts in dialogues and mixed dialogues.

NOTES
i. We have used here the exact terms that Walton and Krabbe (1995) use when describing the initial situation and main goal of each of the six dialogue types.
ii. Due to poor reliability and factor structure problems, self-concept and ego-involvement were dropped from further analyses.

References
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Abstract: Even though interpreting is to a great extent about the interlinguistic reproduction of arguments, argumentation theory is almost completely overlooked by interpreting studies, which partly explains the frequent production of pragmatically inappropriate interpreted texts. Against the theoretical gap, the paper puts forward a descriptive argumentation approach to political speeches with a view to their simultaneous interpretation, in the attempt to make the case for a systematic contribution of argumentation studies to interpretation theory and training.
Keywords: argumentative equivalence, simultaneous interpreting, source texts (STs), strategic manoeuvring.

1. Introduction
The omnipresence of argumentation in everyday verbal communication is the hinge of argumentation studies (van Eemeren et al., 1996, pp. 1-2) and the main reason for their flourishing, from the classical period to a renewed spate of interest last century. What is probably less evident and certainly less studied is the fact that the socio-professional needs of the globalised world repeatedly demand that argumentation be reproduced in another language to cater for interlinguistic communication needs. In this respect, the present paper analyses how argumentation is and should be reproduced in interlinguistic settings requiring the interpreting service.

Argumentation is “the dominant mode of discourse in many interpreted situations” (Marzocchi, 1997, p. 182) and interpretation consequently implies a continuous argumentative interaction, thereby requiring at least an intuitive knowledge of the appropriate contextual use of arguments on the part of interpreters (Marzocchi, 1997, p. 184). Notably, when the predominant focus of a communicative situation is on the discursive attempt to resolve a difference of opinion, the quality of the interpreter’s performance is assessed on the basis of his/her ability to convey the argumentative purpose of the original text, “possibly to the detriment of other kinds of equivalence or of received ideas concerning fidelity” (Marzocchi, 1997, p. 183). This particularly holds true for political argumentation, in which the systematic and subtle implementation of strategic manoeuvring (Zarefsky, 2009, p. 115) to overcome a conflict between different lines of action demands specific equivalence standards not only concerning the content of the message but also its persuasive and ethotic dimensions, which are less important in other communicative events such as specialist conferences.

However, despite the significant development of argumentation studies in the last few decades and the argumentative character of several interpreted situations, the extent to which knowledge of argumentation theory by the interpreter could benefit the overall comprehension of the original or source text and favour the production of the respective interpreted text has yet to be explored (Crevatin in Marzocchi, 1998, Preface, p. xiv). More precisely, the growing interest in argumentation has gone mostly unnoticed in interpreting scholarly settings, in spite of its multidisciplinary and interdisciplinary nature. This is partly due to the fact that interpreting research is a fairly young and largely unexplored discipline (Garzone & Viezzi, 2002, p. 2), and the contribution of argumentation makes up one of most overlooked albeit potentially fruitful domains.

The paper outlines the preliminary findings of a broader PhD project focusing on the empirical examination of recurrent argument schemes in a multilingual corpus of political speeches. By harnessing the hermeneutical and contrastive functions of argumentation analysis (Marzocchi, 1998, p. 8), the study uncovers substantial differences in speakers’ adoption of argument schemes, thereby making the case for enhanced language-specific, argumentation-driven interpreter preparation. In this respect, the present paper is primarily concerned with the applicability of argumentation concepts and methods to interpreter training.

The study of political argumentation in interpreting settings entails a specific focus on simultaneous interpreting, since it is the most widely adopted modality for the interpretation of political speeches. However, the remarks will also hold true for consecutive interpreting because, though progressively ousted by the simultaneous modality, it is still adopted and included in university curricula, and thus fits the training-oriented rationale of the study. In section 2, evidence of interpreters’ difficulty in reproducing the original arguments in the interpreted text is shown and discussed; sections 3 and 4 will respectively briefly present the reference corpus and illustrate the methodological underpinnings of the study; section 5 will explore the main findings, which are eventually discussed in section 6.

2. Interpreting is first and foremost a translational activity, involving a “source-text induced target-text production” (Neubert, 1985, p. 8).
Reflection on the relation between the source text (ST) and the interpreted text (IT) is therefore inescapable, and the ST-IT comparison, aiming at determining relations of equivalence and standards of quality, is at the heart of translation and interpreting studies.

Interpreting can be distinguished from other types of translational activity by its immediacy:
Interpreting is a form of Translation in which a first and final rendition in another language is produced on the basis of a one-time presentation of an utterance in a source language. (Pöchhacker, 2004, p. 11)

Therefore, unlike written translation, interpreting is characterised by ephemeral presentation and immediate production. These severe time and cognitive constraints intensify in the simultaneous modality, in which the interpreter listens to the ST through headphones and delivers the IT into a microphone, almost simultaneously, with a slight delay (décalage) between message reception and message production. Therefore, the hic et nunc nature of the activity confronts interpreters with the task of constructing a mental representation of the text as it progressively unfolds. This further challenges the attainment of an “acceptable” degree of equivalence, rendering interpreted texts more prone to substantial pragmatic shifts than translated texts, which are instead supposed to be produced after careful work. Indeed, what is required in interpreting is not equivalence in toto, but the equivalence of the communicative function (Viezzi, 1999, p. 147), or “pragmatic quality” (Kopczyński, 1994, p. 190) ensuring a high degree of “intertextual coherence” (Straniero Sergio, 2003, p. 147) between the ST and the IT.

However daunting, the task can be appropriately performed after the development of procedural competence (Riccardi, 2005, p. 755) and only by relying on extra-textual knowledge and anticipation, i.e. prediction “based on previously acquired contextual and discoursal knowledge” (Garzone, 2000, p. 73). This means that training and advance preparation play a major role in determining the success of an interpretation (Gile, 1995, pp. 144-145), in that they are vital resources making up for the lack of the necessary time to process a novel text. In other words, professional interpreting is not limited to the actual oral translation of a speech but covers a larger lapse of time, catering for the otherwise insufficient minutes or hours interpreters would have qualitatively to perform an unnatural (Riccardi, 2005, p. 756), extremely delicate and “unstable” activity, potentially engendering substantial pragmatic shifts (Colucci, 2011).

Building on its “instability” and based on the translational needs for compensation (Harvey, 1995) and reformulation (Falbo, 1999), interpreting has been compared to a chemical experiment, in which matter and energy remain unchanged before and after the operation, despite the likely alteration in their distribution (Snelling, 1999, p. 203); matter may be considered to refer to the propositional content of the original message and energy is identifiable with the pragmatic force of the ST. However evocative and vivid, though, the comparison is not a faithful description of the activity, but only a useful methodological suggestion, because interpreting is not subject to laws of physics; both matter and energy are systematically threatened by alteration, more often resulting in “dissolution”, i.e. omission of text segments or mitigation of the pragmatic force of statements, and less frequently leading to “aggregation”, i.e. arbitrary additions and “parallel formulations” (Straniero Sergio, 2003, pp. 159-160).

The quantities of matter and energy can be altered by various factors, which may be said to fall into two categories. On the one hand, there are intrinsic factors compounding the translational task, among which linearity or “the fact that the text becomes available only gradually” (Shlesinger, 1995, p. 193); co-text dependence (Garzone, 2000, p. 71), leading interpreters to lose sight of the context; and the specific language combination, posing targeted problems mainly deriving from the different syntactic rules of the language-pair in question. However challenging, though, these intrinsic obstacles are gradually overcome through the development of procedural competence.

On the other hand, there are “contextual” triggers of matter and energy dissolution and/or aggregation, and they are all ascribable to the interpreter’s scarce preparation or insufficient individual knowledge regarding the topic, the speaker and the type of text (Riccardi, 1998, pp. 173-174). Unlike intrinsic constraints, these factors have a more pronounced individual dimension and are directly linked to interpreter training, particularly to the need gradually to develop the “textual and discoursal competence” (Garzone, 2000, p. 73) enabling interpreters to tackle the speeches with a reasonable degree of confidence. In this respect, extra-linguistic knowledge-related mistakes can be considered a direct consequence of the scarce attention devoted to STs in interpreting studies (Garzone, 2000, p. 69), which is ascribable to a general underrating of pragmatics (Viaggio, 2002, p. 229) that, especially in the interpretation of political speeches, is partly determined by a marked neglect of argumentation theory (Marzocchi, 1998).

The consequences of incomplete interpreter curricula and scarce preparation of the genre, content and ethotic dimension of the ST are evident in the example provided in Table 1, showing the interpretation of an excerpt of Obama’s 2009 Inaugural Address, broadcast live on Italian television and performed by a professional interpreter. The example is drawn from CorIT, the television interpreting corpus developed at the University of Trieste. The Italian interpretation has been retranslated into English and displayed in the right column.

ST – Obama, Inauguration Speech, 20th January 2009 Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions, who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short, for they have forgotten what this country has already done, what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose and necessity to courage. What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them, that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long, no longer apply. IT – retranslation into English Now, there are a few questions standing before these ambitions. Our system can’t tolerate big plans. One always tends to forget. Many have forgotten what our country has already done, what free men and women can do when their imagination is joined to the will to do good things. And often did the ground tremble beneath us. And now there are problems related to consumption capacity.

Rather than an experiment, Table 1 looks more like a chemical disaster. Despite the partially conjectural nature of mistake aetiology in Error Analysis (Falbo, 2002, p. 115), the origin of a mistake can generally be gleaned with a certain degree of precision during the comparison between the ST and the IT. All the more so when, as in the above passage, neither incomprehensible referents nor particular difficulties stand out. In this particular case, the ST delivery speed was at times considerable and the pressure deriving from interpreting live the first message of the newly-elected President of the United States cannot be overlooked. Neither can the peculiarities of TV interpreting; whereas in conference settings interpreters are generally given the texts of the speeches and therefore have at least a few minutes to prepare, in televised interpreted events they hardly ever have the opportunity to see the text (Straniero Sergio, 2003, pp. 169-170). However, despite being unquestionable compounding factors, information density, unhelpful employers and excessive delivery speed are not excuses for poor translation, because their potentially detrimental consequences can be partially obviated by attentive and selective listening (Palazzi, 2007, p. 264).

Therefore, given the groundlessness of the above hypotheses, the “dissolution of argumentation” is likely to have been triggered by the presence of a straw man argument in the ST. Since “when an opponent’s position is distorted or exaggerated in a straw man argument, the effect is often to divert the line of argument to irrelevant issues” (Walton, 2004, p. 22), the sudden shift towards irrelevance may have compounded comprehension and challenged relevant translation. In simpler terms, an interpreter, uninformed of the exaggerating implications of the straw man, has difficulties in grasping the argumentative move and may reasonably dread an impending launch of a personal attack by the speaker or, in Politeness terms, a face-threatening act (FTA) against another politician. Its translation would require enhanced attention to proper names, politeness strategies and the careful reproduction of the pragmatic force of the message, exposing the interpreter to the risk of committing an FTA against him/herself, i.e. staining his/her interpreter reputation.

This is only an example, but it corroborates the hypothesis that unawareness of the specific argument strategies adopted by source language speakers is bound to add a further obstacle to the attainment of a quality interpretation and put the interpreter at a disadvantage against the rhetorical abilities of politicians.

3. The corpus
The study is based on a recently assembled multilingual corpus that is composed of three hundred and thirteen political speeches on the current financial and economic crisis, which are almost equally divided into American, British and French speeches; a hundred and nine were delivered by Barack Obama, a hundred and one by David Cameron, a hundred and three by Nicolas Sarkozy and François Hollande (respectively fifty-three and fifty). All the speeches were delivered between 2008 and 2014 and make up a sample of the discourse on the financial and economic crisis that has monopolised political communication over the last few years, probably outranking the discourse on the war on terror, at least in the United States. The speeches have been selected for their being delivered within international settings requiring the interpreting service (e.g. the G20), but also national speeches have been taken into account, as they are often chosen for exam sessions in translation and interpreting faculties.

The corpus has been named ARGO, for its reference to argumentation and after Ulysses’ dog because, just as the dog recognised his owner when he returned to Ithaca twenty years after leaving, the corpus is meant to promote the recognition and internalisation of recurrent argumentative strategies before the interpretation.

4. The methodological scope of interpreting-oriented argumentation analysis
The interpreting-oriented argumentation analysis is therefore a ST analysis, having little to do with the ST-IT comparison and rather aiming at studying the argumentation of source language speakers with a view to its recognition and reproduction in translation, with the observation of the interpreters’ failures in reproducing argumentation patterns merely serving as a rationale for targeted argumentation analyses. The scope of this peculiar kind of analysis is determined by its specific informative, profession-oriented needs, which are only catered for by the descriptive study of content-related argumentation. More specifically, interest in argumentation in interpreting research is directed towards the findings of applied studies, focusing on both text analysis and the didactics of argumentation in the attempt to promote anticipation and enhance the argumentative competence of interpreter trainees (Marzocchi, 1998, p. 43).

Among all the crucial concepts in argumentation theory (van Eemeren, 2001), the present research was limited to the detection and description of argument schemes, because their study provides insights into the generalised content of arguments (Garssen: in van Eemeren, 2001, p. 72) and provides textual and contextual information (van Eemeren, 2001, p. 20), thereby catering for the descriptive and content-related need of interpreting research.

Yet, however insightful theoretical dissertations may be, the boundaries of interpreting-oriented argumentation analysis and the specific focus of the paper are best explained by means of an example. Take the formal scheme of the argument from distress (Walton, Reed & Macagno, 2008, p. 334):

Individual x is in distress.
If y brings about A, it will relieve or help to relieve this distress.
Therefore, y ought to bring about A.

It is not unrelated to political communication, but the relevance of its internalisation by the interpreter of political speeches is questionable, as it does not provide him/her with a particular advantage during the interpreting process, but only gives a content-abstract indication of what may or may not come up in a speech; moreover, interpreters are not interested in being told normatively how to argue, because their task is to reproduce the argumentation of others. Rather, they may benefit from knowing in advance the contextual implementation of the scheme by a given speaker.

(1) But it [the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act] will give millions of families resigned to financial ruin the chance to rebuild. (my emphasis) (Remarks by President Obama on the Mortgage Crisis, 18th February 2009)

Example (1) is one of the several enthymemic implementations of the argument from distress that have been found in the American sub-corpus. Particularly, the sentence rests upon a specific form of the argument, that can be named Argument from Middle-Class Distress.

The Middle Class is in distress.
If the government implements act x, it will relieve or help to relieve this distress.
Therefore, the government ought to implement act x.

Only content-related schemes have the potential to warn interpreters of the recurrent topicality of discursive practices legitimising specific political courses of action, like Obama’s recurrent leveraging the middle class topos to gain consensus for economic policies. In the following section, other examples drawn from the corpus are examined in context, highlighting the focus on strategic manoeuvring in political argumentation and its key role in supplementing the education, background knowledge and procedural competence of the interpreter.

5. Findings
In pragma-dialectical terms, this chiefly content-related analysis may be described in terms of highlighting the topical potential of a specific instance of argumentation. The practice is highly relevant to interpreters’ needs because, in the light of the predictability (Zarefsky, 2009, p. 115) of political argumentation, a descriptive account of the schemes recurrently used by a given speaker in a given context may raise text expectations in the interpreters’ minds during the training and/or preparation phases, thereby easing the inferential and translation processes during the interpretation.

However, the predictability of political argumentation concerns not only the topical dimension but the whole of argumentation (Zarefsky, 2009, p. 115), therefore also how it is presented and how it is adapted to audience demands, following the strategic manoeuvring categorisation (van Eemeren, 2010, p. 93).
Indeed, analysis of strategic manoeuvring in the corpus uncovers several argument recurrences; particularly, substantial disparities in the speakers’ adoption of argument schemes stand out. Unlike Obama, for instance, David Cameron presents himself as an expert on the economic crisis, but he also uses simple argumentation. For example, he repeatedly compares the world economy to a global race in which every country runs alone and aims at winning the race. By doing this, he generally abides by the following argument scheme:
The UK is running a global race.
It risks being outpaced by other countries.
Therefore, it must run faster than others.

The scheme alone can act as a cognitive support by helping interpreters anticipate the general content of several speech passages, but highlighting the recurrent presentational devices associated with the Global Race Argument provides a further and equally helpful lexico-syntagmatic support, reducing processing and decoding efforts and paving the way for a higher quality translation. Quite unsurprisingly, fast, quick, speed, win/lose, keep up with are the recurrent lexical indicators of the scheme, that is also accompanied by vivid and less predictable sentences like “the world is breathing down our neck” and “in this global race you are quick or you are dead”. Pointing out the presentational devices typical of a given argument scheme is instrumental, in that it warns interpreters of what the speaker is accustomed to saying, instead of limiting the research applicability to the indication of the generalised content of the arguments found in a specific discourse.

However, the sole focus on topical potential and presentational devices is not enough to give a faithful overview of the speaker’s argumentative routines, because Cameron actually does not always resort to the Global Race Argument when dealing with the world economy: the presence of the argument is considerable only in national addresses, while in international settings it seems to be replaced by its opposite, that can reasonably be named Argument from Multilateral Economic Cooperation. The argument, shifting the argumentation to a completely different ground, has the following scheme:
We are living in an interconnected world.
Crisis in one country affects all the other countries.
Therefore, cooperation is needed for the sake of world economy.

The context-dependent alternation between the Global Race Argument and the Argument from Multilateral Economic Cooperation corroborates the pragma-dialectical tenet that argumentation is systematically adapted to the audience. In this particular case, the standpoint is adapted, or rather overturned, too because, when dealing with the role of nations in the world economy, Cameron defends a different standpoint depending on the relevant audience. From an interpreter’s point of view, this means knowing in advance what the speaker generally says (and therefore will probably say) in a specific communicative context.

The adaptability, culture- and context-based heterogeneity of the above arguments are substantially confirmed by the analysis of ARGO. It is true that also a few similarities have been detected among the different sub-corpora, but they concern typically “political” arguments, namely the straw man argument, giving the opponents a bad name, the topos of history (Reisigl & Wodak, 2001, p. 80), comparing the present crisis to past predicaments, and the locus of the irreparable (Zarefsky, 2009, p. 123), urging the implementation of economic policies. However, apart from these distinctly “political” arguments, the speakers generally steer their speeches towards highly different thematic and argumentative corners, which is, however, also a consequence of the specific national implications of the global recession. Their choice of argument schemes differs substantially, as far as topical selection, adaptation to audience demands and presentational devices are concerned. For instance, in line with his focus on the middle class, Obama tells vivid stories of the resilience of the American people in the face of the crisis, showing a predilection for anecdotal arguments (Govier & Jansen, 2011, p. 75) breaking the flow of rational argumentation.

(2) When Bryan Ritterby was laid off from his job making furniture, he said he worried that at fifty-five, no one would give him a second chance. But he found work at Energetx, a wind turbine manufacturer in Michigan. Before the recession, the factory only made luxury yachts. Today, it’s hiring workers like Bryan, who said, “I’m proud to be working in the industry of the future”. (State of the Union Address 2012)

Cameron and Sarkozy opt for a more specialist discourse, presenting themselves as experts on the economic crisis. While Cameron explains the causes of the crisis and the looming consequences of certain policies with intricate slippery slope arguments (Walton, Reed & Macagno, 2008, p. 114), Sarkozy recurrently adopts an argument that may be named Argument from Need for Regulated Capitalism, defending the need for state intervention in the economy, which is perfectly in line with his interventionist political stance (Mayaffre, 2012, p. 15).

(3) L’idée de la toute puissance du marché qui ne devait être contrarié par aucune règle, par aucune intervention politique, était une idée folle. L’idée que les marchés ont toujours raison était une idée folle.

The very idea of a free, non-regulated market was a crazy idea. The idea of markets being always right was a crazy idea. (my translation, my emphasis)
(Sarkozy’s Speech in Toulon, 25th September 2008)

Rather, Hollande’s argumentation heavily relies on the argument from thrift (Reisigl & Wodak, 2009, p. 105).

(4) 2014, ce sera aussi l’année de décisions fortes. […] D’abord, je veux réduire la dépense publique. Nous devons faire des économies partout où elles sont possibles.

2014 will also be the year of tough decisions. […] First, I want to reduce public spending. We must save whatever we can. (my translation, my emphasis)
(Hollande’s New Year’s Greetings, 31st December 2013)

This is actually and formally an argument from sacrifice, enabling the speaker to anticipate the persistence of tough economic times and legitimise government policies.

6. Conclusion
The length of this paper prevents a thorough listing of the most recurrent schemes, but the examples are indicative of the variations in the speakers’ argumentative choices when faced with the same topic. The analysis shows that the most recurrent argument schemes in the ARGO corpus are culture-specific and context-dependent, and also personal or idiosyncratic in some way because, even though they share the same culture and communicative contexts, Sarkozy and Hollande resort to different argument schemes.

This has specific implications for the interpreter: in the light of the heterogeneity of arguments and given the interpreter’s difficulty in processing argumentative passages, the study suggests that previous knowledge of topic-related and speaker-related argument schemes renders certain aspects of STs comparatively predictable, and may therefore act as a cognitive and lexical support during interpretation. This fosters the systematic adoption of argumentation analysis as a source text research methodology, providing interpreting research with findings of direct training applicability, potentially enhancing the communicative skills of interpreter trainees by gradually strengthening their discourse competence. In this respect, a promising line of research could lie in the extension of the practice to other political topics, speakers and languages, in the attempt progressively to build up repositories of data-driven hints on the predictability of political STs.

Moreover, in addition to finding instrumental scope in interpreting research and training, argumentation theory also provides a theoretical and operational contribution to interpreting activity, suggesting a particular interpreter approach to ST argumentation in the attempt to attain an acceptable degree of argumentative equivalence in the IT. Just as the argumentation analyst takes a differentiated view of manoeuvring rather than viewing it as a monolithic whole (van Eemeren, 2010, p. 93), the interpreter of argumentative texts ought to see his/her activity in relation to what could be named the Strategic Manoeuvring Equivalence Triangle.

Figure 1: The Strategic Manoeuvring Equivalence Triangle

In order to recognise and reproduce the speaker’s illocution and perlocution, thereby guaranteeing the correct transfer of argumentation patterns, three aspects have to be taken into account:
– topical coherence, respect for the topical choice made by the source language speaker;
– respect for audience demands, even though the relevant audience may change from the ST to the IT. For example, in the European Parliament the ST audience corresponds to the target audience, as all the participants share the same context of situation and the same communicative interests. Yet, during an interpreting exam, for instance, the IT audience is composed of interpreting professors who are in charge of assessing the quality of the student’s performance. Or, in television interpreting, the audience shifts from the actual participants in the original event and the TV audience sharing the language and culture of the speaker to the TV spectators in the target culture, which renders the activity an example of documentary interpreting as opposed to instrumental interpreting (Viezzi, 2013, p. 384). However, respect for audience demands is paramount under any circumstances, because the interpreter’s task is to show the speaker’s attitude towards his/her audience.
– presentational coherence, or the preservation of the ST presentational devices. This third category is controversial, because the pragma-dialectical notion of “presentational devices” encompasses a variety of features that cannot be always reproduced in the IT. Think of alliteration, that is often bound to perish against the intrinsic differences between languages. However, its reproduction is not demanded despite the rhetorical mitigation in the IT, as interpreters are generally dispensed from the task of “translating the untranslatable”, to paraphrase Reboul’s assertion on the untranslatability of rhetoric (1991, p. 110). Yet the systematic study of ST argumentation highlights a number of presentational devices that can be more easily reproduced, such as Obama’s recurrent use of the historical analogy between the crisis and the Great Depression, or Sarkozy’s and Cameron’s habit of appealing to liberal and conservative presumptions (Zarefsky, 2009, p. 122).

Against this background, argumentative equivalence may be viewed as the faithful reproduction of the features of strategic manoeuvring into the IT. The focus on words and their contextual meaning, which is inherent in the analysis of strategic manoeuvring, is certainly not unknown to interpreting studies. For instance, Gile (1995, pp. 35-36) addresses the interpreter’s need to pay attention to both form and function in terms of dealing with content and packaging, while the need to adapt the argumentation to audience demands may be inferred from Kopczyński’s (1994, p. 190) thorough analysis of the situational variables of interpreted events and the considerable number of studies on the pragmatic aspects of conference interpreting (Schäffner, 1997; Setton 1999). However, the literature on interpreting lacks a specific focus on argumentation, whose distinctive features are only tangentially addressed and whose scattered, incomplete and non-harmonised study stands in the way of its internalisation by interpreters and further shapes the heterogeneous and often ambiguous metalanguage of interpreting studies (Gambier, 2008, p. 64). The focus on strategic manoeuvring, instead, provides a comprehensive and intuitive framework for understanding the threefold notion of argumentation and, by implication, the importance and nature of argumentative equivalence between the source and the interpreted text.

This does not mean that the swift internalisation of the notion of strategic manoeuvring and the superficial study of ST argumentation are destined to solve the ever-present problems of performing “unstable” interpreting activity. Rather, the relevance of the pragma-dialectical approach to STs in interpreting research has to be sought in its explanatory potential, highlighting the salient features of a given instance of argumentation, and in its methodological and operational guidance, shedding light on the best way to transfer the pragmatic and argumentative nuances of STs. This is, in substance, the contribution of argumentation theory to interpreting research and, consequently, to the interpreting profession: it promotes matter preservation by emphasising the ST topical potential; it helps preserve energy by showing the speaker’s strategies of adaptation to audience demands; and it promotes both energy and matter preservation by highlighting the distinctive presentational devices of STs, thereby preventing chemical disasters.

References
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Abstract: Combining the ScaPoLine (Nølke, Fløttum, & Norén, 2004; Nølke, 2009, 2011, 2013) with the (extended) pragma-dialectical approach (van Eemeren & Grootendorst 1984; 2004; van Eemeren 2010), I suggest a reconstruction of judgement motivations as critical discussions between a plurality of voices conveyed even in one and the same sentence. In particular, I present some illustrative examples of polyphonic strategic manoeuvring from a landmark judgment of the Italian Constitutional Court: n. 440/1995.

Keywords: Critical discussion, Italian Constitutional Court, legal discourse, polyphony, Pragma-dialectics, ScaPoLine, strategic manoeuvring.

1. Introduction
When reading legal texts such as judgement motivations, one encounters a plurality of voices carrying different views on the issue at stake. This happens not only – quite unsurprisingly – at a textual level, but also at the micro-level of the utterance (cf. Nølke, 2009, p. 12). With Nølke (2009, p. 12), I focus here on “polyphonie en langue, conçue comme le produit des éléments de la langue susceptibles de favoriser une certaine lecture polyphonique de la parole.” I maintain that the use of such polyphony has an argumentative significance and that this can lead to reconstruct such apparently monological texts as fully fledged critical discussions permeated by the striving for rhetoric efficiency known in Pragma-dialectics as strategic manoeuvring (van Eemeren, 2010). In other words, I suggest focusing on argumentative polyphony in judicial motivations and looking at it from the angle of rhetoric efficiency, since, as van Eemeren (2010, p. 153) pointedly writes, it is the “ample room left for strategic maneuvering [that] is, in fact, the basis of the legal profession.”

The matters addressed in the present contribution are of methodological order and can be broken down into two questions:
* Can an integration of the pragma-dialectical and a polyphonic approach provide useful insights into argumentation analysis?
* Does polyphony account for strategic manoeuvring in judgement motivations?

The fundamental suggestion put forward is therefore the integration of two theoretical pillars: the (extended) Pragma-dialectics on the one hand (see among others van Eemeren & Grootendorst, 2004; 1992; 1984; van Eemeren, 2010), and the linguistic polyphonic approach known under the acronym ScaPoLine – which stands for Théorie SCAndinave de la POlyphonie LINguistique – on the other hand (see among others Nølke, Fløttum & Norén, 2004; Nølke, 2006; Nølke, 2013).

2. Theoretical framework
2.1 The first pillar: Extended Pragma-dialectics
I will not dwell largely upon the first pillar here, since it is the specialty of the Institution hosting the conference from which the present volume results. Only two aspects are to be briefly recalled to the reader’s mind: the ideal abstract model of a critical discussion, in which argumentation and standpoint are staged, and the rhetorical component present in argumentation.

The former is articulated in four stages: a confrontation stage, where protagonists put forward a standpoint while antagonists cast doubt upon it, thus establishing a difference of opinion; an opening stage, where the common ground of the parties is established; the actual argumentation stage, where arguments are advanced in support of a standpoint; finally, the concluding stage, where the difference of opinion is either overcome or maintained (van Eemeren & Grootendorst, 2004, pp. 57-68). The four stages take place when a discussion about a difference of opinion begins; it is however important to keep in mind that Pragma-dialectics acknowledges the complexity of real life interactions by making clear that the logical order pictured above seldom coincides with the chronological one in a discussion, and that some stages of a critical discussion often take place implicitly. This is for example typical of the opening stage, which can mostly be elicited by the fact that a protagonist holding a standpoint directly proceeds to argue for it – and were they not to, it wouldn’t strike anyone as surprising if they were challenged to do so.

On its way towards a resolution of a difference of opinion, the critical discussion thus described is invariably carried by both a dialectical and a rhetorical component at every single stage. While the former component aims at reasonability, the latter strives for effectiveness. Extended Pragma-dialectics tackles the matter by christening this component strategic manoeuvring (van Eemeren, 2010) and pointing out its three simultaneously present aspects: presentational devices, topical potential and audience demand.

2.2 The second pillar: ScaPoLine
The second theoretical pillar is represented by a linguistic theory of polyphony developed by a French-speaking group of Scandinavian Romanists around Nølke and indebted to Ducrot’s linguistic approach. The Scandinavian Theory of Linguistic Polyphony deals with the plurality of points of view, abbreviated with POV in English (Nølke, 2006) communicated through an utterance. This theory is an utterance oriented, semantic, discoursive, instructional and structuralistic theory originally inspired by the Ducrotian approach (1984a; 1984b), which it aims at formalizing in order to “préciser les contraintes proprement linguistiques qui régissent l’interprétation polyphonique” [specify the strictly linguistic constraints governing the polyphonic interpretation] (Nølke, 2009, p. 15).

A certain language parochialism has likely prevented the Scandinavian Theory – not unlike its Ducrotian precedents – from expanding far beyond the French-speaking field of Romance studies. Such borders have only just begun to be removed by sporadic non-French publications: in “The semantics of polyphony (and the pragmatics of realization)” (2006), Nølke introduces the English-speaking readership to the theory, while in “Types of Discourse Entities in ScaPoLine” (Nølke, 2011, p. 58), he specialises in the “images of the ‘persons’ who are created by the speaker and the ‘persons’ who inhabit the discourse”. Dendale (2006, 2007) contributes to the propagation of the theory to the English-speaking audience by presenting and confronting it with other polyphony frameworks, namely Ducrot’s (1984a; 1984b), Bres’s (1998; 1999) and Kronning’s (1996). For other languages, one might refer to Gévaudan (2008), who explains Ducrot’s and the ScaPoLine’s approaches to polyphony on the basis of German examples. If the theoretical framework of ScaPoLine deserves a broader consideration, so does its application to different natural languages, such as Italian. Considering the relatively few non-French papers on the subject, it will not be superfluous to give a brief account of basic concepts of the ScaPoLine in this contribution as well.

The ScaPoLine theory distinguishes first of all between polyphonic structure, which deals with linguistic coding, and polyphonic configuration, which has to do with utterance meaning. From a logical perspective, the polyphonic structure precedes the configuration, since it is composed of instructions for the configuration and thus yields semantic constraints on the interpretation. But to gain insight into the structure, the starting point cannot but be the configuration (cf. Nølke, 2006, p. 145).

The polyphonic configuration is to be attributed to an entity named locutor as constructor (LOC) for its property of presenting the elements composing the polyphonic configuration. These are: LOC as a constructor itself as well as any copy of the locutor as a discourse entity, namely the locutor “as a virtual source of a point of view” (Nølke, 2006, p. 148), also called utterance locutor (cf. Nølke, 2009, p. 23); the points of view (POVs); the discourse entities (DE) and the utterance links[i] (cf. Nølke, 2013, p. 26). It is possible for the elements of the configuration to be coded in the linguistic form and therefore be part of the polyphonic structure, but this is not necessarily the case.

The POVs (cf. Nølke, 2013, pp. 32–33) are semantic units constituted by a source[ii] X, instantiated by a discourse entity, and a judgment upon a content p, which might here tentatively be qualified as of facts or actions. The POV form is expressed as

[X] (JUGE (p))

where the judgement, lacking specific indicators to the contrary, is by default one of truth. The POVs can be either simple or complex, in which case they will be either relational – as in a typical argumentative link, where a POVARG is put forward in support of a POVSTP – or hierarchical, when the judgement is made upon one or more different POVs.

The DE (cf. Nølke, 2006, pp. 147, 149-150; 2013, pp. 26-32) are semantic entities that can be held responsible for the points of view. They are constructed images of the discourse referents and relate to the LOC as string puppets to their master, to use Nølkes efficient metaphor (cf. 2009, p. 23). In ScaPoLine special attention is paid to the speaker’s role, whose images can be distinguished as the following basic DE:
* the textual locutor (L), i.e. “the source of a POV that the speaker had prior to [the] utterance act, and which” is still held (Nølke, 2006, p. 155); L can be constructed by LOC as a L at another point in time (cf. Nølke, 2013, p. 27);
* the utterance locutor (l0), i.e. the source of a POV which is held hic et nunc in the utterance[iii]; l0 exists only in the present utterance (cf. Nølke, 2013, p. 27);
* the locutor of the utterance (lt), i.e. the source of a POV held at the moment of the utterance construction and who is, in fact, an l0 at a different point in time (cf. Nølke, 2013, p. 28).

In addition, it is useful to present the represented locutor (RL), a discourse entity introduced to explain reported speech (cf. Nølke, 2013, p. 52), which is a type of what is known as external polyphony because of the presence of DE different from the locutor’s images (cf. Nølke, 2013, p. 36)[iv].

Besides the speaker’s POVs, ScaPoLine also takes into consideration POVs of the addressee (text addressee [A] and utterance addressee [at]), and of thirds. The latter can be individuals – either textual thirds [T] or utterance thirds [τt] – as well as collective entities such as the LAW or an impersonal voice named after the French indefinite pronoun ON (cf. Nølke, 2013, pp. 30-32)[v].
The utterance links (cf. Nølke, 2013, pp. 33–35) finally connect the discourse entities to the points of view. They can be of responsibility, as in an unquestioned statement, or of non-responsibility, in which case they will be either of refutation, as in a negation, or of non-refutation, as in indirect speech.
As far as the polyphonic structure is concerned, I shall confine myself to reporting two principles that apply to it (cf. Nølke, 2006, p. 152): on the one hand, the polyphonic structure necessarily contains at least one simple POV; on the other hand, the link between locutor and at least one POV is of responsibility.

2.3 Argumentative acts between Pragma-dialectics and ScaPoLine
Starting from the pragma-dialectical understanding of argumentation as a communicative and interactional complex speech act linked to the (complex) speech act of a standpoint it means to defend (cf. van Eemeren & Grootendorst, 2004; 1984), argumentative acts stricto sensu are here understood as relational POVs linking standpoint-POVs (=POVSTP) to argument-POVs (=POVARG)[vi]. The link between the two is part of LOC’s construction and is therefore to be traced back to LOC even if it can apparently be attributed to another locutor’s image: in fact, even this image is LOC’s creation. In other words, since LOC decides what elements of the polyphonic configuration to stage and in what way, it is LOC who is held responsible for the utterance and any argumentative acts occurring through it (cf. Nølke, 2013, p. 34).

3. Illustrative analysis
I now suggest an intertwinement of Pragma-dialectics and ScaPoLine by using some examples from a judgement of the Italian Constitutional Court, specifically number 440/1995, regarding the constitutional legitimacy of art. 724, clause 1, it. Poenal Code, on blasphemy (it. bestemmia)[vii]. This judgement was a milestone in the development of religious discourse in Italy, as it meant a shift in the jurisprudence and argumentation of the Court, resulting in the abolishment of the special treatment reserved for Catholicism in the punishment of blasphemy. For its intervention in the law, the aforesaid judgement is regarded in the legal community as a manipulative one (cf. Casuscelli, 2005, p. 4).

The constitutionality issue was raised by the court of Milan. In the motivation of judgement 440/1995, the final question the Constitutional Court is confronted with is: Should the norm of article 724, clause 1 it. Poenal Code (religious blasphemy) be declared unconstitutional? The outcome will of course depend on the answer to the question: Is the norm constitutionally legitimate? The answer to the latter in turn will be decided by the court’s position on two possible arguments for constitutional illegitimacy – which can be formulated as follows: Is the norm indeterminate according to art. 25 of the Italian Constitution[viii]? and Is the norm discriminatory according to art. 3 and art. 8 of the Italian Constitution[ix]? In the argumentation supporting the answer to the latter, the deciding court raises a further matter, namely: What is the object of legal protection of the norm?

Concentrating on the judgement part concerning constitutional indetermination, i.e. chronologically the first matter the court seeks to solve, I will now introduce some examples to show how, through the identification of the polyphonic configuration, it is possible to reconstruct the chosen argumentative extracts as critical discussions and identify polyphonic means specific to single natural languages – in this case, Italian.

To this end, I name the various POVs relevant for the reconstruction of the critical discussion after its four stages. Therefore, the standpoints from which the discussion starts in the confrontation stage will be POVCONF(i) and POVCONF(ii). The various speech acts that can take place in the opening stage are abstractly represented as POVOP. The arguments in support of POVCONF(i) and POVCONF(ii) shall be POVARG(i) and POVARG(ii). If an argument becomes, in turn, a standpoint, it shall be marked as such as well (POVARG/STP). Different numeration systems are given to different argumentation structures (see van Eemeren & Grootendorst, 1992, pp. 86-92): 1, 2, 3… for subordinate argumentation, i.e. when argumentation is made of various arguments supporting each other and finally the standpoint; i, ii, iii… for multiple and coordinate argumentation, i.e. respectively when multiple arguments support the standpoint independently from each other and when they function jointly. The latter joint function is signalled by an ampersand. The conclusive speech act will be named POVCONC. The integrated model proposed can be outlined as in Tab. 1:

Table 1

The judgement upon the propositional content of a POV shall be given in the analytical tables of the following paragraphs through the explicitly verbalised markers found in the text. Otherwise, a judgement of truth is to be assumed, according to the ScaPoLine principles.

3.1 Confrontation Stage coded through REPORTED-DUBITATIVE SPEECH
n the first example, the confrontation stage of a critical discussion is rendered through the polyphonic use of reported-dubitative speech. On a macrolevel, example (1) stems from the confrontation stage in which the court of Milan puts forward a standpoint as to the indetermination of the contested measure.[x] This standpoint of the court of Milan is outlined here as having been said (cf. example (1): si sostiene che) by a RL: Inside this passage of reported speech, the beginning of a critical discussion is staged in the italicized utterance in example (1) around the question if the alleged indetermination stems from specific arguments:

1. Si sostiene […] che, poiché la norma impugnata sanziona […] chi pubblicamente “bestemmia […] contro la Divinità o i Simboli o le Persone venerati nella religione dello Stato”, e poiché il Protocollo addizionale dell’Accordo di modifica del Concordato lateranense […] prevede testualmente il venir meno della religione cattolica come sola religione dello Stato italiano, ne conseguirebbe […] la indeterminatezza della fattispecie penale.

[It is maintained that, since the contested norm sanctions the person who “utters blasphemy against the divinity or the Symbols or Persons revered in the State religion”, and since the Supplementary Protocol to the Modifications Agreement of the Lateran Concordat provides verbatim that the catholic religion as sole religion of the Italian State be abolished, it would follow that the legal paradigm is indeterminate.]

RL puts forward a complex standpoint, constituted by an argumentative POV and marked as such both by the fact that it is subsequently argued for and by the introductory verbum putandi sostenere (en. to maintain), while L questions it. This confrontation stage is carried – besides by the assertive verb sostenere, which concerns POVCONF(i) – by the condizionale mood in its present tense, which has here a twofold function:

* on the one hand, as condizionale riportivo, it reports a protagonist voice maintaining that certain arguments follow a certain standpoint (POVCONF(i)) and
* on the other hand, it casts doubt upon (and challenges) POVCONF(i) through an ideal antagonist (condizionale dubitativo) (cf. Patota, 2006, p. 116).

As can be clearly seen in Table 2, we have a complex polyphonic structure in which three POVs (POVSTP1, POVARG(i)(i) and (POVARG(i)(ii)) that form a coordinate compound argumentation are related and, in turn, are subject to the judgement of a different source: L responds to the POV of RL, thus setting off to become the antagonist in the subsequent argumentation stage: it is noteworthy that L does not question the arguments in defence of the first standpoint POVSTP1 (the legal paradigm is indeterminate), which arguments the protagonist RL has already given in POVARG1(i) (blasphemy against the State religion is punished) & POVARG1(ii) (the State religion was abolished). It is rather the soundness of the relation between arguments and standpoint, which constitutes a new, hierarchical, standpoint (POVCONF(i)), that is being challenged in POVCONF(ii). So in one sentence a potential critical discussion is begun, and then interrupted by another one. The difference of opinion is thus shifted from the macro-question: Is the norm indeterminate? to a sub-question: Does the indetermination of the norm follow from the given arguments (which per se constitute common starting points between protagonist and antagonist)?

These POVs can be distributed following the critical discussion scheme of Pragma-dialectics as in Table 2, in which the role of the condizionale is reported as well:

Table 2

The condizionale is a typical means for LOC to stage the confrontation stage of a critical discussion in a monological text, because it implies neither a refutation nor a responsibility link, but only a non-refutation utterance link between the locutor and the POV attributed to a third, which is reported. Thus, the reader expects an argumentation either for or against a standpoint, and there is then room either for the acceptance or the refutation of said standpoint.

3.2 Confrontation & Concluding Stage through NEGATIVE + DUBITATIVE SPEECH
Example (2) gives an instance of a compound confrontation and concluding stage in the same utterance. The critical discussion revolves here around the matter expressed in the final standpoint, placed at the very beginning of the utterance and once more constituted in turn by a standpoint and arguments subordinately linked to it. For concision, we shall focus only on the marked part of the extract and operate under the assumption that the source of the POVCONF(i) and of POVCONC is L.

2. Né la censura potrebbe superarsi ritenendo che la norma denunciata continui a riguardare la religione cattolica come confessione religiosa più diffusa del Paese – mutuando l’espressione dalla sentenza n. 14 del 1973 della Corte costituzionale – poiché non verrebbe ora in discussione la ratio della norma incriminatrice, bensì la sua (sopravvenuta) incompatibilità con il principio di tassatività.

[Neither could the censure be overcome considering the contested norm as still regarding the catholic religion as the most widespread religion of the country – borrowing the expression from the judgement n. 14 of 1973 by the Constitutional Court – for it would not be the ratio of the incriminating norm that is in question, but rather its incompatibility with the taxativity principle.]

Again, we have the condizionale presente that opens the res dubia carrying two POVs (POVCONF(i) and POVCONF(ii)) and introduces to the confrontation stage. RL questions POVCONF(i) in POVCONF(ii) through the condizionale dubitativo. The argumentation stage follows, signalled by poiché[xii]. This leads to the outcome of the critical discussion, reached in the concluding stage: the refutation of POVCONF(i), which is anticipated at the very beginning of the sequence condensed in the negative particle né. It is noteworthy that negation implies a refutation, a non-responsibility link between POVCONF(i) and the discourse entity linked to it, but that the entire passage of example (2) is actually reported speech: through reported speech a non-refutation link is built between LOC’s image (which can be traced back to the extralinguistic institution of the Constitutional Court) and the whole argumentation. This supports the hypothesis that the whole critical discussions are included in the long motivation of the judgment to slowly lead the audience towards acquaintance with and acceptance of the final standpoint. The mentioned stages of the critical discussion can be reconstructed as in Table 3:

Table 3

The negation is strategically placed at the beginning of the sequence and right before POVSTP1, thus orienting the audience and anticipating the outcome of the macro-discussion – in the end the censure cannot, indeed, be overcome, as the Constitutional Court will decide: the norm is (if only partly) unconstitutional. Of course, a concluding stage stricto sensu cannot take place in a monological text, but this is in fact also part of the strategic manoeuvring: the arguments are staged as if an actual discussion was taking place, where the interlocutor can explicitly accept or refute a standpoint in the end.

3.4 Argumentation Stage through QUOTED SPEECH
In example (3) the argumentation stage is conveyed by a quotation. The voice quoted is that of the Constitutional Court at another point in time:

3. A sostegno della censura, nell’ordinanza si riportano brani di precedenti pronunce di questa Corte che sono consistiti in espressi inviti al legislatore, non ancora accolti, per una revisione della disciplina in vista dell’attuazione del principio costituzionale della libertà di religione ), dal momento che “la limitazione della previsione legislativa alle offese contro la religione cattolica non può continuare a giustificarsi con l’appartenenza ad essa della quasi totalità dei cittadini italiani”.

[In support of the censure, the order reports passages of former rulings by this Court, which consisted in explicit requests addressed to the legislator to revision the discipline […], since “the limitation of the legal prevision to the offences against catholic religion can not continue to be justified with the fact that virtually the entirety of the Italian citizens is religiously affiliated to it”.]

In POVCONF(i) it is maintained by a RL that the norm must be censured. POVCONF(i) is not explicitly challenged, but reveals itself as the final standpoint of the passage at the beginning of the argumentation stage, which involves arguments for an implicit POVCONF(ii) of another RL maintaining the contrary of POVCONF(i). In POVSTP1/ARG(i)1 the argument for POVCONF(i) is that the legislator should revision the discipline; at the same time, this is a standpoint supported by a subordinate argument: the complex POV STP1/ARG(i)2, according to which the argumentative POVARG(ii)1 justifying the limitation of the legal prevision to the offences against Catholicism (POVSTP1/ARG(ii)1) with the well-known (ON) affiliation to it of the majority of Italians (POVARG(ii)2) and altogether supporting the implicit POVCONF(ii) (the norm must not be censured) is not justified.

Quoted reported speech is used here for accepting and not for refuting a standpoint, as is attested to by the fact that it is syntactically integrated in the speech of the hierarchically superior locutor, without inquit, which implies sticking to the epistemically assertive indicative. Interestingly enough, the quoted utterance is presented here as an argument for the critical discussion attributed to the Court of Milan, whose standpoint will be refuted, as seen. But it is also a decisive argument for the final declaration of unconstitutionality and it is strategically already reported at the beginning of the judgment, functioning as a material starting point. Table 4 can serve as a reconstruction of the critical discussion stage:

Table 4

Direct speech, which implies the construction of the locutor’s representation with all its locutor’s properties, as a mimed LOC (cf. Nølke, 2013, p. 56), is only used for two discourse entities in the analysed judgement: the third-person-DE LAW (which in this judicial text is to be taken as a stricto sensu reference; e.g. POVSTP1/ARG(ii)1) and the images of the locutor at a given moment in the past. These voices are thus integrated in the utterance supporting the point of view of the utterance locutor. This strategy is applied throughout the judgement and it is particularly evident how it is meant to support the final decision of unconstitutionality when the DE involved is an image of the same extralinguistic subject instantiating the decision of judgement 440/1995: in fact, the new decision is staged as not so new after all, given that the voices of the same referent in the past back it up.

4. Concluding
In summary, I believe that the integration of the polyphonic approach into the pragma-dialectical can enrich the latter with an analysis apparatus that allows going beyond the universal perspective inherent to the pragma-dialectical approach. The polyphonic theory suggested here can in fact help to identify antagonistic voices coded in one and the same utterance as well as stages of an ideal critical discussion coexisting in one and the same utterance – and this while showing the specific linguistic means responsible for such phenomena, which may differ in various natural languages. Moreover, a systematic application of the ScaPoLine to a discursive tradition can highlight the patterns of strategic manoeuvring polyphony used: in the judgement taken into consideration in the present paper, polyphony could be identified as a manoeuvring by means of presentational devices, but other aspects of strategic manoeuvring are still to be taken into consideration through further research.

NOTES
i. In Nølke (2006), unlike in Nølke (2011), more confusingly for the English-speaking reader, enunciative links.
ii. The sources are variables corresponding to the utterers (énonciateurs) of Anscombre and Ducrot: cf. among others Nølke (2011, p. 64).
iii. “The utterance locutor is always responsible for the highest POV in a hierarchical point of view structure. This is why sentence adverbials, for instance are the utterance locutor’s responsibility.[…] An analogous difference between the t-locutor and the utterance locutor is that while the POVs of the latter may be shown (in Wittgenstein’s sense) […], those of the former can only be said (or narrated).” (Nolke 2006, p. 155) Following Wittgenstein’s distinction (1969, §§ 4.022 & fol.), this amounts to saying that the POVs of the lt can always be considered in terms of truth, but not the POVs that are merely shown: as such, they cannot be subject to discussion.
iv. As opposed to external polyphony, internal polyphony takes place when an utterance conveys both the POV of L and the POV of locutor0.
v. ON is rendered in Nølke (2006, p. 156) as VOX PUBLICA, in Nølke (2011, p. 66) as ONE. In my opinion, it is better left untranslated, as in Dendale (2006, p. 13), due to the useful semantic ambiguity of the French pronoun, which can be translated in English into both one and they.
vi. This is not to say that a simple standpoint cannot be endowed with argumentativity in a Ducrotian sense – but to deepen this matter here would go beyond the scope of this contribution.
vii. The norm text of art. 724, clause 1, it. Poenal Code reads: “Chiunque pubblicamente bestemmia, con invettive o parole oltraggiose, contro la divinità o i simboli o le persone venerati nella religione dello Stato, è punito con la sanzione amministrativa pecuniaria da euro 51 a euro 309.” [The person who publicly utters blasphemy against the Divinity or Symbols or Persons revered in the state religion shall be punished by a financial administrative sanction of 51 and up to 309 €.]
viii. Art. 25 co. 2 Costituzione della Repubblica italiana: “Nessuno può essere punito se non in forza di una legge che sia entrata in vigore prima del fatto commesso.” [No punishment may be inflicted except by virtue of a law in force at the time the offence was committed.]
ix. Art. 3 co. 1 Costituzione: “Tutti i cittadini hanno pari dignità sociale e sono eguali davanti alla legge, senza distinzione di sesso, di razza, di lingua, di religione, di opinioni politiche, di condizioni sociali e personali.” [All citizens have equal social dignity and are equal before the law, without distinction of sex, race, language, religion, political opinion, personal and social conditions.]
Art. 8 co. 1 Costituzione: “Tutte le confessioni religiose sono egualmente libere davanti alla legge.” [All religious denominations are equally free before the law.]
x. It is to note that, although the standpoint the norm is indeterminate will ultimately be refuted by the Constitutional Court, the argumentation in its support is given in great detail. Since the LOC holds the power to present the referents by constructing the images at will, there must be a reason why LOC indulges in this long construction of a complex critical discussion even though in the end it doesn’t revolve around the question that will be decisive in the constitutionality matter (i.e. its discriminatory nature). One of the reasons can be found in a long discursive tradition of judicial texts according to which it is first the arguments and standpoints that will not be accepted that are put forward, only eventually followed by the voice that “set things right”. The staging of critical discussions between POVs through reported speech (which means a partial, selective construction of other voices than the speaker’s) entails also the possibility to attribute wrong argumentation to other sources than the image of the LOC’s self. On the other hand, the detailed argumentation attributed to different sources in defence of the standpoint the norm is indeterminate, which is theoretically accepted as argument for the standpoint the norm is unconstitutional, means that the reader has the time to get used to the final standpoint of the unconstitutionality of the norm.
xi. In this operative translation, I have kept as close as possible to the Italian original – even at the cost of the English grammaticality, if it helped to render the polyphonic means used in Italian.
xii. It is noteworthy that the internal argumentation of POVCONF1, namely POVARG1,1/STP2 and POVARG1,2, are implicitly accepted by the parties as arguments for POVSTP1. Insofar this acceptance is part of the negotiation of the common starting points in the opening stage.

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